Red Cross
by Mizar31
Summary: One morning, a letter arrives at the CBI-Headquarter. At first, no one thinks, that this is the start of a new case; but as soon as Patrick Jane gets it in his hands, he insists, that there is something strange about it...
1. Chapter 1

_Red Cross _

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, and I don't want to make money with this story. This is just an idea I had. I enjoyed writing and hope that the readers like it. I am not a native English speaker/writer, but I tried my best – if something is clearly wrong or could be misunderstood please tell me in reviews.

I´m not good in writing summaries – and maybe I would tell too much, when I try to do it. But the rating might be T later on, for language and content.

Chapter 1: ICU

It was an ordinary early-summer-day in Sacramento, not too hot, but sunny without any sign of clouds or rain. There was no wind and the temperature was moderate. It was nine a.m., and the most of the agents had arrived at the CBI-Headquarter. Usually there was a longer line in front of the security check at the entrance, but now almost everyone had passed and was at his working place or desk, right as it should be at this time of the day.

The more embarrassing it was for Agent Wayne Rigsby, to arrive now, a few minutes past nine, at the parking lot. He got up late, and it seemed to him that everything was going wrong this day. Maybe this was the fate of someone who overslept, but there were really a lot of small incidents that slowed him down. He nearly burnt his tongue with his coffee, the toast was much to black, when he finally was able to get back the bread slices from his toaster. The toaster caused short-circuit, because of the harsh treatment, and Wayne recognized that fact when he wanted to use the electric shaver. So he lost more time - he had to restore the electricity in his home.

At last he left, and found his usual route blocked by an accident. The detour was longer, and only one lane wide, so he again had to be very patient. And now, finally, all the good parking-positions were gone, and he had to search for another one, far away from the entrance to the CBI-building. Much more time would pass by, what a shame!

»Ha!« he smiled, and turned the wheel. »There he goes…« he muttered with himself.

The parking space, that Lisbon usually used, was still empty. So his boss was not here either, or she had been here so early that she got an even better place. Wayne parked his car in that space, grabbed his things and started to go to the entrance at a very fast pace, almost running.

The security guys at the entrance check smiled at him widely, since the last minutes they had not seen an agent coming to work, only visitors or cleaning personnel. »Late, eh, Rigsby?« one of the men joked. »At least, you are the first in line now.«

Wayne frowned and started to place all his belongings into the tray for the x-ray, then he stepped through the metal detecting archway. He was clear, so he took his bag and things and wanted to start upwards.

That moment the postman entered the building and smiled at him. Of course they knew each other, for the postman had been working in this block for a long time. »Agent Rigsby.« he said. »May I ask you a favor, would you please be so kind to take the today´s letters to the internal distribution unit? Usually I do this myself, you know, but…«

»It´s ok, man, don't worry. I´ll do it, of course. Send it through, please, and I will bring them to the secretary's office.« Rigsby smiled, and turned round to get the letters and small packages from the other end of the x-ray. Nothing was allowed to be brought into the CBI-Building unchecked, therefore Wayne waited patiently until the last of the letters was through the x-ray security control. So at least he had an excuse for his delay.

»Do I have to sign something?« Rigsby asked the postman.

The older man shook his head: »No, there is no registered letter today. Ah, but… I remember, one of these letters… yeah, the big brown envelope, carries a wrong, too cheap stamp on it, so the rules say that the full postal charge has to be paid by the receiver. But forget it, that's peanuts. I am so happy that I didn't have to undress and dress again to pass that security control… eh, see ya.« He waved and turned round.

»Thank you, Ronny, bye.« Rigsby replied and went on. He was really interested in that letter, so he looked at the brown envelope. It was a bigger format than usual and a special kind of envelope, made for breakable contents, isolated with aircushion. He looked at the address, and then he put it back between the others. This letter was meant for his boss, Special Agent Teresa Lisbon, and he wasn't curious enough to break the secrecy of the post.

A few minutes later he placed the all the letters and parcels at the front desk of the internal post distribution and collecting service, and explained shortly why he was the postman today, and not Ronny.

Then finally he went upstairs to the bureau. Sighing, he opened the door and tried to sit down at his desk unnoticed, but there was no chance. Everyone in the room was busy although there was no new case – but whatever everyone was doing, he or she looked at him for a few seconds, ere they carried on with their business.

His teammates, Kimball Cho and Grace Van Pelt still looked at him, both smiling a little bit. They said nothing, but Rigsby knew. »Yah, I got up late, ok?« he said harsh.

Then another voice said: »Well, at least you are here earlier than mommy, aren't you? She´ll never knew.« anyone could hear the gloating, but still friendly smile between that words. Patrick Jane, the CBI Advisor, sat up on his couch and grinned. »Never seen you so late, Rigsby, something wrong? Tell me. I´m bored.«

Van Pelt said: »Jane, it is good when major case teams are bored. That means, no one has been killed. And it is not even half past nine a.m.; it will be a long day. We´ll get plenty of work once the boss is here. She´ll find something for us.«

»Yeah, but you _yourself_ said a few minutes ago, that today will be like yesterday and the day before. You´ll have to recheck old cases for the internal revision, clean up your desk, and so on. That's boring.« Jane leaned back.

Cho replied: »That's work, Jane. We have to do it, so we´ll do it.«

»Nah.« Patrick responded and decided to get up. »I´ll go somewhere else.«

Van Pelt tried to hold him back: »But Lisbon won´t be happy to find you gone… um... You _know_ that she gets nervous, when she doesn't know where you are. And especially… what you are doing there, wherever you might be.«

»Try to hold me back, then.« Jane answered, and went to the office exit at a fast pace. He was half through the door, when he turned and smiled: »Anyone wants to come with me? It´s gonna be fun. Promise.«

»No, thank you.« the three others replied in unison. No one looked up from his work, everyone was pretending to be very busy.

Patrick Jane wrinkled his brow and stepped back in: »So really no one…« he never finished his words, because of another distraction. At least something happened, no matter that it would not distract him for long.

Brittany, an older woman with brown hair, stepped out of the elevator, carrying the post for this floor, in addition to that, three packs of new paper-sheets for the printers, and some internal files that were sent from one department to the other.

»May I offer my help?« Patrick asked her.

Brittany nodded: »Yes, thank you, Jane.« but then she got aware, that he was looking very eagerly at the few files she was carrying: »No, not them, they are meant for private eyes only. I think I can get along alone…« That moment she stumbled slightly and the letters and parcels on top of it all began to slide. Patrick immediately stepped forward and prevented them from falling.

»I really want to help. Just give me whatever you want, Brittany.« he said.

She sighed: »Well, ok. Take the last new office-paper-package from my hands and the three letters with the yellow tags. This would be for Agent Lisbon's bureau. So it will be easier for me. Thank you.«

Jane took the few things, and Brittany went on, but the door to Lisbon's room was still locked, because she was not there. So he decided to go back to his couch, leaving the office-paper at Van Pelts desk, but he snatched the letters and sat down on his couch.

A few seconds later he said: »Ah, Rigsby, this one is for you. Since when do you know a woman called Mindy Parson? And why is she sending you a perfumed letter into the office? Shouldn't that be a private thing?« he waved the letter in the air.

Rigsby, who had had enough embarrassments for that day, rose and took it from him with a fast snatch: »She is the woman of an old client, ok, maybe she liked me a little bit. I don't want her to be sad so I accepted a few letters during the last months, and I answered her. But I don't like her so much that I would give her my home address. That's it.« he explained, but Jane wasn't even listening to him. Or maybe he was, because he claimed to be al multi-tasking person.

Patrick Jane was looking closely at the brown, thick, air-cushioned envelope. Something in his gaze was so interesting, that Cho and Van Pelt stopped their work. Several minutes passed, and Jane did nothing - except looking at the letter, turning it round, upside down, then he shook it a little bit. Maybe, that there was a very small sound from the insides, but respecting the noise level in the office, no one of the others heard anything.

»I have to check something with that thing here.« Jane finally said. »Does anyone want to come with me now?«

Rigsby advised: »But this letter is for the boss. She will freak out if you do some mischief with it.«

Patrick rose and said: »I'm _not_ up to some mischief – why does everybody think that? – no, I just do not like this letter. Has it been checked at the entrance security?«

Rigsby nodded: »Yes it has, I´ve been there myself. Why are you aware? It´s only a big letter, what else? The postman brought it with his daily delivery. And he also said, that he knows that there is a wrong stamp on it, if you criticize that.«

Jane replied: »Yeah, I really _was_ aware of that; it's one forty-four cent stamp, and should be two of them, respecting the oversize; but also of a few other details. First, the envelope is very clean, as if it never was in a mailbox. It also seems as if it was not carried all too long in the postman´s bag, you can still smell the original fresh-paper-scent and not the worn out leather-and-fabric scent of a bag, nor the slightly gasoline and car-perfume smell that parcels get when they travel in the mail-delivery-car. Second, the postmarks date and location sign is some kind of strange, it is shabby and you can hardly read it. But I think it is a postmark from Los Angeles, four days ago. That would mean a longer way by mail service, wouldn't it? And that does not fit the facts I explained before. Last but not least, there is no sender´s address. I do not like big brown letters without a sender´s address.«

Van Pelt nodded: »Ok, that's an argument. Let´s go to the laboratory and check it. Maybe this is a trap, or something more dangerous.«

All together they stepped into the elevator. No one was talking, and no one was too nervous, but they knew: Whenever Jane was on something, it could be serious.

A few minutes later they reached the laboratory and Cho informed the two scientists, who had the morning shift. The two men prepared all standard checking methods. They dressed on in protective clothes, gloves and clean shoes and stepped into the special "clean room", a part of the laboratory that looked like a big glass box and could be closed entirely. If something really dangerous was in this letter, it could not get out of this chamber. At first they sent the letter through the anthrax-test. They all were sure that it was definitely not a bomb attack – the security agents at the gate check would have noticed that for certain.

Jane said: »As long as they test here for anthrax, other diseases or some poison, I´ll go down to the entrance check and take a look at the x-ray of that letter.«

Rigsby said: »I´ll come with you, I think I remember when it passed through the x-ray. So we can find it faster.«

Not much later they were at the security control station. Only one of the officers was there, but he offered his help immediately. »I hope that we´ll find it. The system only keeps a certain amount of pictures in the reverse line, the others are continuously deleted. See… if one new picture is made, the oldest one in the reverse line is gone forever. The only exception would be if you _safe_ one picture. But… sorry, we never knew that we should safe the pictures of the mail. They all looked usual, nothing was suspicious.«

Sighing, he pressed the reverse-button and lots of images ran by. After twenty scanned items the reverse line ended. »I go forward now, from the oldest picture to the newest one. Here, the date. That's today, one of the letters.«

It was somewhat of a bad feeling, not to know if they would find it, but then Rigsby said: »Slow down now. That was the big printer cartouche, after that will be the brown envelope. It was one of the last, I remember, immediately after the biggest parcel.« He sighed relieved. »Yes, there it is.«

The three men looked closely at the picture. It was strangely plain, showing, that only one item seemed to be the content of the envelope. It was a very thin, black chain, bearing a black cross on it, nothing else. Suddenly Patrick Jane turned on his heel and darted away in a fast run, without saying a word, but leaving a very, very uncertain atmosphere behind.

Rigsby, who knew him well, took a second look at the x-ray-picture. »It seems to be a golden chain and cross, no?« he asked.

The security officer said: »Yes, correct. Gold appears blackish on this unit, paper and other things orange. There might be a one- or two-sheet letter with that chain, but definitely not more. No further packages, and nothing that gives a hint, that there is a dangerous content. What shall I do now?«

Rigsby ordered: »Try somehow to get a safe copy of that picture; we might need it in a short time. Do not risk, that this is deleted. Ask someone from the technical unit, if you need help. But don't lose that picture. I have to go.«

Patrick never waited for the elevator to come back to the ground floor; he used the stairs and rushed into the laboratory. »Where is the envelope now?« he asked Van Pelt.

She answered: »They haven't found anything at the quick test, no poison, no anthrax, no radiation, and no other contamination, It seems to be ok, but you look like as if you have another clue. What is it?«

Jane hesitated, then he said: »I hope that I am wrong.« he rushed forward, opened the glass door and paid no attention to the furious scientists, who tried to hold him back from stepping into that clean room with his street clothes. »I´ll be gone soon.« he replied, while he put one rubber glove on his right hand. Then he took the envelope. Without waiting he opened it. The scientists in the closed laboratory panicked, and hurried to put on their mouth-and-nose protection, but Jane still carried on, and the content of the envelope fell in his right hand. Cho and Van Pelt watched him through the glass front of the laboratory; Rigsby arrived that second and stopped dead. No one said a word.

For one moment Jane looked at the small thing in his hand in a very distraught way.

Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt had seldom seen him being so disturbed, and they all did not like it. To be honest, they _hated_ it, to see him like this. The few seconds seemed to enlarge up to hours. Then Jane made a sudden, fast movement; he took a piece of paper out of the envelope, and showed the few letters to his colleagues, right through the glass front.

»ICU.« there was nothing more: »I´ll see you.«

Then they looked at the other thing he was showing them; a thin golden chain, bearing a small, golden cross. It was clearly visible, that there were traces of blood on the shimmering gold.

»It´s Lisbon's.« Jane said with a blank voice.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Something is clearly wrong

It was Van Pelt who spoke first. She really wondered herself about that fact, because she had expected to be Cho or Rigsby the first ones to make a statement: »Oh yes, no doubt. I got so used to that cross… I never thought of seeing it once without her. There are only a few things that could prove us so clearly that something bad happened to her.«

Cho decided: »We´re going to her house, immediately.« Once, not so long ago, J.J. La Roche had made him the boss of the unit for a while, he didn't like that very much, but following the orders, he had done it. »I´ll go and explain it to the director. Rigsby, would you please get us a car? Van Pelt, check it, recheck it and check it again – we have to know with one-hundred percent certainty, that this is really Lisbon´s necklace, and, what´s even more serious, if those are her blood traces. You are the right person to do this and don't let the case be taken to another unit, while we are away. The director will say that we are too close to that, but who cares. We´re working this one out.«

Rigsby nodded grimly and left the laboratory. Cho seldom spoke so long; most times he just added a sharp and accurate comment, but this time everything seemed to be different. Wayne hurried downstairs to organize a car, whilst Cho went upstairs to the boss.

Van Pelt hastened to the wardrobe and took a clean, white cloak, plastic shoe protectors and a hairnet; in addition to that rubber gloves. Then she entered the clean room and took the three pieces of evidence material from Jane. He had not moved or tried do take another, closer look at the things in his hands, because he was fully aware that everything was important now. He must not touch any more parts of the evidence material with his bare hand. Van Pelt took a marker pen and circled all the areas of the papers that Jane had touched and where they would find his fingerprints for sure. At last she took the bloody cross with a pair of tweezers and placed it on a small glass plate.

»The chain is broken.« Jane said. »Therefore you need no microscope.«

Van Pelt nodded: »I´m worried about this, but I expected it to be so.« she sighed. »If anyone gets so close to Lisbon that he can take this tiny thing by force… what happened to her? Why couldn´t she hold her attacker back?«

Jane reassured her: »As I know Lisbon, she had been a strong opponent. There is no real prove, that she´s _not_ all right. We´re gonna find her. I´ll call you as soon as we are at her home. Meanwhile, let them check everything.«

»I´ll do my best here.« Grace said, while he opened the glass door. Then she turned to the scientists: »Please work as fast as you can. Fingerprints, chemicals, blood analysis... Send it over to my desk immediately. Nothing is more important than that now. I´ll be waiting to compare the results with our data, and the archive of the police and FBI.«

The two lab scientists nodded unison: »Yes, we´ll hang on that, Ma´am.«

It was exactly, as Cho had foreseen. The director of the CBI decided, that Lisbon's unit was too close to the case. He did not want them to lead the investigation, but he also knew that he had no chance in forbidding them to take part in this. It was crystal clear that he would face mutiny if he tried to block Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt from this case. And Jane? He never would be able to stop Jane. That man could be more annoying than pestilence.

In addition to that, the director wished only the best for Lisbon, and if anything could help to bring more light in this strange case, he would do it.

»Ok, Cho. As long as Lisbon is missing, you are in charge for your people. You perfectly know that everyone of your team is too much involved. I have to engage another unit to do the official part. You _all_ - _especially Jane -_ have the strict orders to work together with them as partners. You are _not_ allowed to do any investigation alone. Understood? At least one member of the other team has to accompany you, wherever you go. It will be Special Agent Donnaly´s team. So… now, when you go to Lisbon's home, take Agent Gray Carter with you. I´ll inform the local police department, they will assist you when needed.«

That moment, as if it was some strange kind of fate, the telephone on his desk rang out. »Yes it´s me.« he answered, and listened to the voice at the other end of the line.

His face grew weary and he nodded for himself, then they hung up. »Agent Cho, this was the Chief of the police department that cares for the district Lisbon is living in. He called, because one of her neighbors made a report. This neighbor was uncertain, but he thought, that he heard two gunshots at Lisbon's, at about four in the morning, today. They sent a patrol there half an hour ago. A few minutes ere he called me, they reported him a slightly open and damaged front door. They haven´t entered the place yet. They wait for you. It doesn't look too good. Hurry on. And don't forget Agent Carter.«

Cho nodded, and hastened downstairs, to get Agent Carter. The younger man with the black hair was a little bit surprised, but as soon as Kimball told him what happened, he was eager to go too. It had an impact on all agents, when someone of them was missing.

Rigsby had the car ready, waiting directly in front of the exit, and Jane was there too. While Wayne seemed to be nervous, Patrick was astonishingly calm, somewhat in thoughts.

Cho told them about the phone call and the director´s decisions, the rest of the time they were driving, they were silent, but felt like bowstrings. Once Jane tried to call Lisbon at her cell-phone, once at home, but there was no answer. To be honest, no one in that car had expected to get an answer. It was nerve-racking, and somewhere in the back of their minds a big clock seemed to be ticking. If Lisbon was attacked at four in the morning, she was in the hands of her kidnapper for over six hours now.

Van Pelt got the phone call twenty minutes after she left the laboratory. It was, as if a heavy black blanket was falling down and wrapping her… the little, last stripe of hope was gone. At first she had found a picture of Lisbon showing clearly that cross; it was exactly the same shape, size and fabric as she had it on the evidence-photo.

All the blood was definitely Lisbon´s, without any trace of doubt. It was the only type of blood that could be found on the cross, in little spots and scratches on the paper of the letter, and inside the envelope. The laboratory had done good work, but there was no other evidence. There were no fingerprints except those of Jane in the marked spaces, no hair, no traces of saliva on the envelope, no skin cells. Nothing. A few seconds she stared down at her laptop. She had been ready to feed the computer with fingerprints or part of fingerprints, was up to search the DNA-Data, but what could she do now, without any spot to start from? Van Pelt sighed. Surely her colleagues would find something at Lisbon's house. At least she hoped that. She longed for the telephone and called Cho. It was a short call. There was nothing to say but bad news, and she hung up only thirty seconds later. They were still driving and could tell nothing new. Grace hated it to be the one to tell her friends, that she was not able to give them a clue or a tip to help.

In the moment that she hung up, Special Agent Donnaly entered her office. He was a tall man, even taller than Rigsby, wearing a brown suit and black-framed glasses. »Agent Van Pelt, the big boss told me what happened. You are too close to that case, you know that. Please tell and show me everything that you´ve got right now. My team will lead the investigation. Please remember, that we don't want you out of that case. But it is for the officials. We will inform you about everything we get to know and hope that you will do the same. Okay? We are going to work together, but unofficially.«

Van Pelt nodded and informed him quickly. Donnaly sighed: »That's not much. I hope that they find more traces at her home. Otherwise we cannot do proper work. We need at least one little hint.«

It was close to eleven a.m. Two police cars were in front of Lisbon's house, when the CBI-Agents arrived, but the Crime Scene Investigation Unit was not there, although Rigsby had called them only minutes after they left the CBI-Headquarter.

»I´ll call them again, they should be here by now. But they can´t be far away, I suppose they´ll arrive in a short time.« Wayne tried to reassure himself and the others, and longed for his telephone. No one wanted to lose any more time.

Together they walked to the door. It was easy to see, that the door had been manipulated, there were marks of a crowbar on the frame and the door next to the lock. It was not closed entirely, because the wood was damaged, and Cho touched it with his pen, to open it fully and allow them to enter Lisbon´s home.

At first they noticed nothing. Everything seemed to be all right, except maybe a strange smell that still hung in the air. Something was clearly wrong here. There was no obvious sign of a fight; nothing was turned over or broken. It was, as if nothing had happened, with one exception, that broken door. All of them knew Teresa Lisbon, a tough woman. She would never let someone take her easy. Of course she would fight for her life. What´s wrong here? Why didn´t she try to defend herself? Had she had no chance?

Jane used his phone and called Lisbon again. Her cell-phone rang out clearly from somewhere nearby. He found it in her suit pocket, at the wardrobe. It was clear now that it made no sense to try to call her. He closed his phone just in that moment, as Lisbon´s voice mail box started to speak to him. It was somewhat strange to hear her voice right now.

»Cartridge case!« Agent Carter suddenly claimed out, and everybody was aware within the same moment. Everyone knew that this was not a good sign.

One second later, there was Chos voice: »Weapon on the floor. It´s Lisbon´s.«

Rigsby looked round in the living room. »Two bullets in the wall – right here next to the cupboard, and one beneath that painting. It looks like as if they were coming from the right side of the room, next to the stairs.«

Carter nodded: »That fits, a second cartridge case is here.«

Patrick Jane looked around, listened to the others, but he said nothing. Suddenly he bowed and stared at one particular spot on the floor. Cho saw his movement, stepped closer, and realized: »That's some kind of sand, small gravel or shingle, maybe it was carried in by the attacker. Could be important... I´ll mark it for the CSI-Team.« He put a small white card, number six, next to the little sand heap.

Jane did not answer, he looked upstairs, where Lisbon´s bedroom was, then took a deep breath and went on. She must have been sleeping, when she heard her intruder coming. The bed was used, but definitely not as confused as if a fight had taken place here. She must have left the room in a hurry, her house cloak was still on the edge of the bed, and the house shoes at the floor. Although it was a warm and sunny day, the night had been cool, and if these warm gowns were in a ready to use position like this, she would have taken them, if she´d had time. Somehow Jane felt like an intruder himself, here in her private room, but he had to look around. No, here was no sign of an intruder. The kidnapper had never been upstairs. She must have heard him break her door, and was ready to fight before he could get on her, but why didn´t she catch her attacker then?

Carter came running up the stairs and said: »We found an empty gas grenade downstairs. This is probably the reason, why she wasn´t able to fight for long. Please come and have a look.«

Jane gave him a short nod and followed him downstairs. The grenade hull was under the TV cupboard. Next to the empty grenade, the furniture and the floor were damaged; for sure the specialists could find out what substance it had been. Patrick slowly put his hands into his suit pockets, turned around a last time, checking everything. It must have been a fast fight. There were no blood traces here, but that didn't count anything. The only thing that really mattered was the blood on the cross.

He turned away, without any word, and went to the door.

That was enough! Rigsby, who in this moment was closest to him, demanded with a loud voice: »Say something, Jane. Please!« He did not like the silence.

Patrick didn't turn, but he answered: »Tell the investigation unit to bring a corpse tracker dog over here.« and then he left.

Cho growled: »And now we all wish, that he´d remained silent.«

Three hours later, the crime scene was completely investigated; but even at this hot spot there was not much to be found. The gun was Lisbon´s, the two cartridge cases and the bullets fitted those that were still in the magazine, and were definitely fired of with that gun. The grenade´s content was analyzed; it was a kind of anesthetic gas, not killing, but hlghly effective. The serial number of that grenade had been removed, and there were no fingerprints. The only thing the investigators could find was one line of words: _Made in China_; nothing else. Everyone in the CBI gave the very best to bring results. The police of Sacramento was in alert, everyone had a photo of Lisbon and whenever something suspicious was reported, they started to investigate that trace.

But the most part of these hints just led into dry sand. At least, and that was maybe the only thing that was some kind of good news, the corpse tracker dog did not smell a dead body in Lisbon´s home. It could have been a relief, but it wasn't, really. This fact told nothing more, than that she did not die in her home, or maybe she died there while fighting and the intruder took her body with him before it could leave a trace for the dog.

It was like being caught between high, smooth walls without any chance to get past them. Whatever direction they tried to search, there was a new dead end.

Special Agent Donnaly decided: »Ok, as long we can´t get hold on something new, we´ll start with everybody who was ever involved with Lisbon. That's not much of a trace, but what else can we do? As long as there is nothing to do outdoors, we´ll focus on that. If you want, Agent Cho, your team can help. We´ll need every available pair of eyes. And we´ll get all the secretaries and Agent Vince´s team too. I´ll engage the whole bureau, if needed, and if that is not enough, we call in someone from the police to help. The director will be ok with that. We have to demonstrate the kidnapper and the public, that we won´t accept, that someone takes one of us as a hostage. As soon as we have some results, we will inform the public. I don´t think that it is useful if there are some rumors or lies out there.«

Van Pelt murmured: »I am starting to get really worried. It´s not a good sign that there is no demand until now, no phone call, no e-mail, no second blackmail letter. If she has been taken hostage, why isn't there anyone who offers us a deal? Over ten hours have passed since she's gone…« her uneasy gaze flickered to Patrick Jane for a second.

He was stretched out on his couch, with his eyes closed, and a plain face without any expression. For the flash of a moment Van Pelts heart ached, she knew very well how much Lisbon meant to Jane, and Jane to Lisbon, and seeing him there was… _hard_.

Special Agent Donnaly passed on his thoughts: »What if she´d _not_ been taken, because the unknown person or group wants something? Why should it be exactly her? In fact, she is not really a person of value. Uh, don´t misunderstand me now, of course I think she is the most precious person to all of us, but, ah, she´s not the one with the big money, eh? Maybe she has been kidnapped because it is _her_ _personally_, that they want. Revenge, maybe? See, If some terrorist group or a gang, or a single person wants to use a hostage to get something; maybe money or the pardon for an imprisoned friend… this criminal could have taken anyone; a rich man´s child, a public transport bus, a state lawyer… someone wo is a VIP and known to the public. Surely we all would work together to save this person´s life too. So why Lisbon? Because they wanted especially her. I am convinced that this is the reason. And we should focus on that. Any other statements?«

Jane said at low voice: »Why _not_ Lisbon? As you said, they might have taken anyone. Let us assume for a while, that Lisbon is just someone from out of a great pool of possible hostages to them. Maybe they chose her because they found out her address first.«

Donnaly replied at hard voice: »And what if Lisbon _was_ the target?«

Jane sat up abruptly and looked at the other man with an icy glance: »Then it _is_ something personal; hatred, revenge, rage, wrath… against her, or someone close to her. To hurt her or her friends, and… Agent Donnaly, this would be the worst case scenario.«

He was right. No one could say a word. Yes, it was the worst case scenario. If someone had a personal motivation, there was almost no chance to find her unscathed.

At last it was the phone on Van Pelts desk that broke the uncertain silence with its high, nerve racking noise. A scientist was on the line, and Grace pressed the speaker button, so that all could hear at once, what the man had to say: »Maybe this is important, maybe not.« he began. »We have analyzed the sand parts that were found in Agent Lisbon´s home. They do not match any plant pot in her house, nor the earth outside. In fact, these sand bits are real "aliens" in Sacramento. The sand is out of the Mojave Desert.«

»Mojave Desert?« Jane asked. »Are you sure?«

»Yes, we are. We will recheck it of course; and there is still the possibility that we can get a hint, out of which part of the desert they are. If we have luck, there´s something special on that sand, something unique. As soon as we got it, we inform you.« they hung up.

Donnaly was excited: »This is a hint! We can use that information. Maybe there is something in Lisbon´s case files that correlates with something in the Mojave Desert. Maybe some criminal has or had a refuge there, or a family member… whatever.«

Two of his team members entered the office, pushing two heavy loaded wagons. »This is a part of the cases that Agent Lisbon was involved during her career. We go back to the storage room and get the others.«

Cho said: »She worked with Sam Bosco for a while. Don´t forget that.«

»Thanks…« Agent Gray sighed. »That means, even more boxes and files. Come on, Cook, let's go down again…« he waved his hand to his younger, female colleague.

Agent Donnaly looked at the mass of files and file boxes; then he cracked his fingers. »Ok, let´s go. We might have got something. Let´s pick out everything that has to do with the Mojave Desert – or with someone who tried to threaten her during the investigation or the process, or out of prison. That's not much, but it is a beginning.« He started to hand out the files to everyone in the room.

When he arrived at Jane´s couch, he stopped and looked disturbed. The CBI-Consultant did not seem to be interested in this work. »Everyone here will help us, that's an order.« Donnaly demanded. »This includes you. Don't you want to find her?«

Jane answered: »Oh, you can´t imagine, how much I´d like to get her back, but I see no reason in this. Looking into old files won´t help, it only costs time. There is something that doesn´t fit, and I´m going to check that out first. I will help you here when I am ready.«

Donnaly protested: »The director said that we have to work together, but _I_ am responsible, when we get a bad end here. If you know an important detail, tell it. No secrets.« he sighed, and tried it more suggestive: »Jane, we all know that you solve cases, but maybe this one is too big for you. You are in too deep. And I know why! You think that this might have happened because of you, don´t you? Maybe one of _your_ enemies is behind that kidnapping. This is what you fear. That this is your guilt.«

Jane answered: »Brilliant, Donnaly, brilliant, but… you would need more to convince me to stay here.« he smiled and left the bureau.

Donnaly sighed: »Agent Rigsby, keep an eye on him, will you?«

»Eh, Sir.« Wayne protested. »I think he´ll be perfectly well. I´ll stay and help you with that.« He looked at Cho and Van Pelt. They nodded slightly, because they understood. Wayne was playing on time, he was offering Jane the chance to slip away. The longer they discussed, who must accompany Jane, the longer their friend had time to get out of sight.

Of course Donnaly protested: »Agent Rigsby, don´t forget that this is my case and you have been advised to follow my orders. If you don´t do that, I have to report this to the director. But I accept your decision. Agent Dryer, you go after Jane, quick.« he sent one of his own team, but the trick had already worked. A few minutes later Dryer came back, and said, that he had no clue where Jane had disappeared to.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Faked evidence?

Patrick left the CBI-building at a fast pace and left his car behind. Everyone in the CBI knew his old Citroen, and if Donnaly was as furious as Jane assumed, he would tell the local police patrols to look out for this car. So he paid a taxi that brought him back to Lisbon´s home. He had the strange feeling, that he had seen something there, that was not… not _usual_. It seemed to him, as he had noticed that fact subconsciously, and that little "something" was nagging inside his brain, but he was uncertain. He didn´t want to believe that he was maybe more affected by his worries than he would admit. No, he wasn´t! He had to concentrate now, focus on the details. There was no time to let some distress consume him.

The door was sealed by an official police seal, but he opened it within a few seconds. He stepped inside and tried to recap the footsteps of the intruder. He had to cross the small entrance area to get to the living room, where the flight of stairs led up to the first floor.

Lisbon had fired her gun while running downstairs or seeking cover behind the banister. The angle in which Lisbon´s bullet hit the opposite wall, fitted that theory. They had found her gun at the right side on the living room floor; this must be the place where she broke down, affected by the gas. So the kidnapper went over there to take her, and then he rushed out of the door again. That was one fast, smooth route, just in and out.

But… evidence tag number six, the place where the sand pile had been, was at the left side of her living room floor. _That's it. That´s what my senses noticed. But why?_

Jane knelt down next to the number "six". Of course there was no bit of the sand left. They took it all to the laboratory to analyze it, but it was enough for him to look at the whole crime-scene from this place. There was definitely no sense for the kidnapper, to come over here, when Lisbon was next to the stairs at the other side of the room. Why was the sand, that the kidnapper lost from under his shoe exactly here then, and nowhere else?

_And… one moment_. _There it was, yes. This was the detail that did not fit_. It had been a sand pile like a little hill, not pressed down flat into the carpet, as if someone stepped on it. It was very unusual to get a smooth, conical sand heap out of the tread of a shoe.

Patrick left Lisbon´s home and called for a cab, but then he chose not to wait for the ordered one, instead he jumped into the next one that was passing by. »Sacramento bureau district – Post office.« he said, and the driver accelerated the car.

There was not much time left to get there, and the evening traffic jam already started. The cab driver used all his skills to be at the post office earlier than closing hours. Three minutes to five Jane entered the post office building. Only one counter was still open, all the others had closed, although the clerks were still there. They were working hard on the cashing-up for that day.

»How can I help you?« the woman at the open counter asked. She was trying to be friendly, but it was obvious that she wanted to close too.

Jane took a piece of folded paper out of his pocket – it was the exterior card sheet of the brown envelope; the interior layer of air cushion foil had been removed during the examination. »Do you or anyone of your colleagues remember this letter? It was at the CBI today morning, so not too much time has passed until it was in the sorting room.«

The woman looked at the empty envelope for a moment: »CBI-Headquarter, hm. That's not my section, but wait, Clara is still here. She sorts the letters for that part of our district in her cupboard. And I think it is Ronny Wilkins who delivers them… one moment.« She went through one of the doors to the sorting room, and returned a few seconds later with another woman. »This is Clara, she may be able to help you.«

Clara, an older, thicker woman who wore glasses, looked at the envelope and shook her head: »No, Sir. This letter never passed my hands. Not today, and not yesterday.«

»Are you sure, Ma´am? I know this letter is flat now, but once it was upholstered.«

She shook her head again: »No, I told you. And yes, I know that those envelopes are usually thicker. And a second no here, it was never on my desk. I would remember it, because the stamp fee is not correct. If I had sorted it out, it would have a red sticker on it that shows the receiver, how much he or she has to pay the postman for excess size. See, something like that.« she showed him a roll of red stickers that was next to the cash desk. »And, to be correct, the postmark is from Los Angeles. _They_ should have noticed that one stamp is not enough. I am really sorry, but I can´t help you any more.«

Jane smiled at her thankfully, turned round and went through the door another post officer held open for him. Immediately after he was outside, they closed the gate. He went round the next corner and stopped next to the staff entrance and exit of the post office. Several staff members went by. About fifteen minutes after closure he noticed Clara. He caught up to her within a few steps. At first she was shocked, because she never expected someone to wait here for her.

»I apologize for this disturbance. I know that you only want to go home after a long day in the office.« Jane said to her. »But I need your help once more.«

She stopped next to her car and turned to him: »What is it?«

»I need to talk to Ronny Wilkins, the postman. I know his shift ended long ago… but I cannot wait until tomorrow. It´s really important.«

Clara sighed: »But you´ll have to wait, sir, he is at home now. I am not going to tell you his address. You can ask him tomorrow.« She opened her car door and sat down.

Jane begged: »Please… a good friend is in big trouble. I have to help her. Ronny is maybe the only one who has seen the person that sent this letter.«

»Why do you think so?« Clara asked and started the engine of the car.

Patrick said: »Because you said it. Usually, you sort all letters that Ronny is going to carry to the households, shops and offices in this area. You haven´t seen this letter, so maybe someone gave it to Ronny outside. Maybe this person told him it was too late to put it into a post box, or some other story. But only Ronny knows. You and Ronny are working close together, you see him every day, and I think you like it to talk to him. What would you do, if he was missing? Please?«

Clara took a deep breath, then she said: »Ok, jump in, I´ll take you to his home. But don´t expect too much. I´ll call him, before we arrive. If he says that he doesn´t want to see anybody, you will have to respect that.«

Jane sat down at the passenger seat and a few minutes later, while Clara was waiting at the red light on a crossroad, she called the postman Ronny Wilkins. No one answered, and that seemed to confuse her a little bit. »Maybe he´s just out to get a pizza or something.« she muttered to herself. »There´s a baseball game we-against-Canada tonight and he told me that he´s very eager to watch it. It starts at six, so he can´t be out very long. He´ll be furious when he misses the anthems.« She tried to phone him again a few minutes later at his cell-phone, but there was no answer too. She was getting nervous and asked: »Mister Jane, what is up with that letter? Why is it so important?«

»I can´t tell you more than I already did, I also need more information.«

Clara was worried now and sped up, not much later they stopped in front of a big house in one of the cheaper quarters of Sacramento. »His flat is on the fourth floor, four-o-three. But wait for me. I´ll come with you. To be honest, I am a little bit worried now. I´d like to see if he is ok.«

The elevator was out of order, but they were both excited, so the stairs were no problem. Clara started to knock at the door, and called: »Ronny, Ronny, are you at home? It´s me, I´m sorry to disturb, but please open up.« No one answered.

»I´ll open.« Jane said, and quickly used a piece of wire to unlock the door.

»Who are you?« Clara asked a little bit suspicious, but the next moment, she was screaming. Ronny Wilkins laid face-down at the floor of his entrance hall, and a large, already stuck blood lake was beneath him. He was dead; the back of his head looked badly smashed. His feet were near the entrance door and he was still wearing all his street clothes. Blood splashes were at the wall, and a baseball-bat next to the corpse. It seemed as if someone had followed him home, or waited here for him to return from work and then killed him immediately after he had entered his home.

Clara cried in shock and pain, but Jane was able to hold her back from stepping into the flat, and contaminate the crime scene. Although the scene was causing him a faint nausea too, he had to do the call. He reached for his phone and informed Cho. He felt his own heart sink while he told his friend the facts, and then there was nothing he could do except to stay with Clara until the team and some police-psychologist would arrive.

It was no robbery, and no burglary. Everything in the flat was untouched and the baseball-bat was the murderer´s weapon. The killer must have worn gloves; no obvious fingerprints were on the piece of wood. There seemed to be no reason, why Ronny had to die. He had no money, no credit cards, no jewellery, nothing that was really expensive. The local police was entrusted with the investigation, because the murder had no official link to the CBI, and no governor, state lawyer or any other important person was there, who would insist that the CBI would take over that case.

Jane tried his best, but the poor postman had nothing to do with the CBI except one thing; he was the person who had been delivering the post for years.

»We have enough to do to get Lisbon back.« the director refused to listen to him.

»Maybe the death of Mister Wilkins is connected to her abduction.«

»Mister Jane, I don´t see any connection. Would you please enlighten me?«

»Ronny Wilkins was the man who brought the envelope that contained Lisbon´s necklace and the letter. I got the information, that the letter had never been in the post office. Maybe our postman was the only one who saw the kidnapper – that moment, when the kidnapper gave the letter directly to him.« he sighed. »Wilkins had to die before he could tell us how this person looked like.«

»But you forget an important detail, Jane.« Donnaly said. He was also in the director's office. »The postman was killed somewhat between midday and three p.m. That does not fit in the time frame. No, I am convinced, that Lisbon and her kidnapper are far away by now. We need more than luck to get her back alive. I am sorry for that postman, I knew him, but we have to focus on Agent Lisbon. The police will tell us all, as soon they got the results. We must join our forces to find the secret hideout of the kidnapper. I have already a good hint to the Mojave Desert. There was a case once, when Lisbon was still working as with Sam Bosco… some kidnappers took a girl to a ghost town in the desert and held her captive there. That´s a good hiding place, many empty houses, much wind to cover over tracks… «

Jane interrupted: »But the sand might be a false track. I have to have a look at the crime scene photos, to prove it with one hundred percent. Then I will explain it to you. Where are the evidences right now?«

Donnaly protested: »Oh no, keep away from the evidence. You took the envelope without permission. It was missing from the moment you left this afternoon. And now, as soon as you´re back, its back again.«

Patrick smiled: »What a miracle! You should sell that to TV, you know?«

The director was astonished, and pretended to overhear the little joke: »You stole evidence material, Jane? _Again_?«

»I wouldn´t say that I stole it, it… um… it just jumped at me when I passed by… like… swush… and, then it hid in my pocket. I am innocent.«

Donnaly complained: »This is not funny, Jane, this is a serious breach of the rules.«

Van Pelt entered the room after a short, sharp knock: »Sorry to interrupt, but… telephone, sir, via the public number. The secretary sent it to line three. She said it is important. She thinks it may be the kidnapper.«

The director decided: »We will accept it in the big bureau. Try to link it with the computer. We´ll track it down. Hurry up.« All together they rushed one floor downstairs, and gathered round the telephone at Van Pelts desk.

The caller at the other end of the line did apparently not fear the possibility that the phone call could be tracked down. He was still patiently waiting in the line, when Van Pelt pressed the speaker button, so that all agents in the room would be informed at once.

Donnaly asked: »Who are you? What are your demands?«

»You know who I am.« the unidentified person at the other end of the line said. »There is no need for questions. My demands? Yes, I have a demand, a big one. Pay a million dollars, or you´ll never see Miss Lisbon again.«

Cho requested: »One million? Where? When?«

The kidnapper laughed coldly and answered: »I won´t be so silly to tell you, where I am. The million must be transferred to an online-account, and then – only then I will tell you where you could find your precious little Agent Lisbon. And you´d better hurry up. I must say, she has not much time left.«

Rigsby inquired: »Why that?«

The kidnapper clicked his tongue, then he replied: »She refused to be a good girl… I am really, really sorry, but she is seriously hurt.« his voice was gloating. »I know that you might be afraid now, but she shouldn´t have tried to escape.«

Jane rushed forward and demanded: »Let me talk to her.«

»No. Impossible. She´s unable to speak.« the man at the phone seemed to be slightly disturbed. »She does not want to speak to you, she wants you to help her.«

»Either you give us a proof of life, or our negotiations are ended!« Patrick told him.

The kidnapper was seriously angry now: »Whoever you are, what do you think you are doing? Get off the line! I have a hostage; therefore _I _am the one who gives the orders! Is this understood?« his voice was shrill, and he added: »Now she is crying, you see, she´s afraid that I will kill her. And I will do it, so prepare my money. By all means, I´ll kill her!«

Donnaly tried to calm him down: »Sir, Mister Jane does not speak for the CBI. We want a good and happy, smooth end to this. For us, and for you. Okay?«

Van Pelt held up her hands: »Ten seconds for the first triangulation attempt.« she whispered at a very low voice, then she started the countdown.

»Answer please, Sir?« Agent Donnaly begged the man on the phone.

The kidnapper growled: »I don´t propose to enter into in any long debates. She´s mine and I am the boss of that thing. Understood? I know that you are trying to locate me, but that won´t work. If I see police somewhere, me and my comrades will be very angry, and Miss Lisbon will pay for this mistake with her life.«

Just the half of a second before Donnaly could, Jane answered. Patrick stressed every word: »I do not believe you, and I call you a liar, and there will be no money and no further discussion. You have to let us talk to Lisbon first. If she is alive, then we will be on good terms for a negotiation, but if you have killed her, I promise that I will hunt you down and…«

Donnaly cried: »Get him out of the damned room! Get him out here!« Two of his agents, Carter and Dryer, rushed forward, to push Jane out of the bureau. The same second two shots could be heard through the telephone after that the connection broke down.

Now Special Agent Donnaly was furious and shouted: »That´s on your responsibility, Jane! We all witnessed that – this is your fault! I want him suspended from duty…« He interrupted himself, because Agent Cook, his younger, female team member, put a hand on his arm. He looked at her: »What is it?«

She said: »Boss, the triangulation was not successful, the first track-down pointed to a sending station somewhere in the Mojave Desert, and we lost the connection three seconds before we could finish the second one.«

Donnaly was aware: »Mojave Desert, you say? We´ve got the sand as evidence. They said it is from the Mojave, there are some cases in Lisbon´s career that had to do with the Mojave. It´s a kind of proof, that we are right, at least we got that. He is somewhere in that desert. Try to compare it somehow with the data we got from the phone call. Hurry. Dusk is approaching, and as soon as its dark we can´t even send a chopper out to look for her, unless we get one carrying infrared vision. Where is Jane now?« He looked around. »Eh, forget it. Wherever he is, tell him to stay out of this bureau, Dryer, will you? He is not allowed to come back in! He can go wherever he wants to, but not in this room.«

Rigsby, Cho and Van Pelt sneaked slowly out of the office to the kitchen, where Jane was preparing a cup of tea for him, being apparently as calm as ever.

Grace asked: »What was that? I know you, but this was really strange.«

Patrick turned around and waved, to call the three of them closer to him. Then he whispered: »This man lied; you could tell it from his voice. I am definitely sure about that, but to prove it for me, I had to anger him a little bit. The voice tells a lot, as long as you have learnt to listen. And his voice was that one of a really bad actor, not the one of a professional, cold killer. Remember how nervous he got when I told him that I want to talk to her? He tried to intimidate us with his harsh words. And to be honest: Only one Million bucks for the life of a CBI Agent? This is ridiculous.«

Rigsby meant: »Yes, that´s true. And he said, that she is crying for mercy and help. _Lisbon and crying_? That sounds not like our boss, really.«

»That's it, Rigsby. Whoever knows Lisbon, knows, that she would never do that. So there are a few possibilities, what this man tried to conceal. Either, he never had her, and he is just some comrade of the real kidnapper. A contact-man who tries to distract us. Or, he is her kidnapper and she tricked him out in some way, was able to flee, and is on her way back now. He won´t catch her again.«

He stopped and took a sip of his tea then he continued: »Third, he really _is_ her kidnapper and has already killed her unwillingly, or she died in an accident, maybe it was a too strong anesthetic gas, or she suffocated during her abduction; everything is possible. The forth thing that is puzzling me: At first, he did not care for being kept in the waiting line so long. He _must_ have realized that we are preparing to track his call back, even if he uses a disposable cell phone. And then, later on, he tried to threaten us that we must not try to find him and send a rescue team. It was complete nonsense to tell us that, it only cost him a few seconds time – which means a few more seconds time for _us_ to complete the triangulation. It seems as if he _wants_ us to find him in the Mojave Desert. His "oh so secret" hideout is also proved by the sand pile he left at Lisbons home. Yeah, I assume, he left this sand on purpose, to lure our interest and concentration to the far away Mojave Desert. Maybe he is there, maybe not, but whatever – he wants us to look far away. And Lisbon is the bait.«

Cho asked: »You think, that someone is trying to persuade us to focus on that somewhere far-out hiding place where Lisbon might be kept as hostage, so that we do not pay attention to something that happens close to us?«

Jane nodded: »Exactly – or almost like that. Just imagine. How would you try to get the honey out of a bee hive without getting stung? Distract the bees, lure them away, and give them something to attack there, some target. And you are able do whatever you want, right under their hand, even in their secret honey chamber.« He smiled.

»So what can we do now?« Van Pelt asked at a very low voice. She cleared her throat. »How are we supposed to find out what he or they really want? I… don´t believe that we can expect any help from the others. They will think that this is ridiculous. And besides, as soon as the villains get a hint that we see through their game, the boss will be in real trouble. We have to keep this secret.«

»Only if she is still alive.« Cho said with a calm voice.

Rigsby asked: »Why do you think that they might have killed her already?«

Cho explained his thoughts: »Jane assumes that they murdered the postman, Mr. Wilkins, only because he saw the man who gave this letter to him. To take Lisbon with them for a long time is a much too big risk. Maybe they only keep her alive until all of us are really convinced that they have got her. And then they get rid of her.«

Jane sighed and said: »That is what I am afraid of. They had no inhibitions to kill Mr. Wilkins, a man who was barely involved in this case. What will they do to Lisbon then? They won´t let her go. Never…« But suddenly, Jane changed his topic: »Or maybe Wilkins would have been a serious danger to them, if he´d live… maybe he _really_ _knew_ the man who gave him this letter. What if… let say what if they killed him because they were convinced that I will be going to talk to him? Maybe Mister Wilkins knew the name of that man, and whoever gave him that envelope, must have known what´s inside.«

Rigsby asked: »So should we check on Mr. Wilkins surroundings?«

Van Pelt smiled: »It is a start. I´ll contact the post office and get his daily route.«

Jane advised: »But we should keep this secret. As soon as we start to get too loud, they may be alarmed. No one knows what they really want – maybe it´s something right here in this building, and they have some kind of little helper in here.«

Cho said: »Then we´ll try to pretend, that we´re still working together with the others, to reassure them that everything is all right.«

Grace Van Pelt stopped after one step, and turned around to face Jane again: »What do you think? Is she dead?«

Patrick smiled and answered: »I _have_ to think that she´s ok. Otherwise I couldn´t… um… you know what I mean.« he shook his head. »I think she is fine.«


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Bad luck 

Teresa felt not very well, and not very bad. It was somewhat in the middle, mixed with a little bit anger, disappointment and yes… loneliness. She did not know where she exactly was, but it was in every way much better than two hours earlier.

She sat next to a big sage brush in the shadow of a small tree, trying to get kind of thorn or small spine out of the sole of her foot. It was no deep wound and not bleeding, but the spiny thing showed her effectively, what it´s like, when you are running barefoot through the bushy desert. And on top of it she had not done a good distance since the point from where she started her flight. But what else could she do except to stay in cover, and try to get some yards if her pursuer looked away for an instant?

She could not leave the desert vegetation in order to avoid thorns, spines and pointed stones. There was only one, straight street that crossed this area, and the bushes and trees were not high enough to conceal an upright person. As soon as she would step out to the road, she would be totally in the open, and this was the last thing she wished to be.

Her kidnapper had a good car, and he was patrolling the street continuously. He knew that she was still somewhere in this area, although over two hours had passed since he lost her. Sometimes he stopped his car, stepped outside and took a closer look around; he had binoculars, a pistol and a pump-gun. Every now and then, when he thought that he had seen her, he shot at the place where he suspected his bait. The most times he had been wrong, but once the bullet hit the trunk of an old tree very close to her. Teresa was sure that he´d shoot without mercy as soon as he saw her; therefore she could only run or crawl a few yards, when he was driving in the other direction. Even then she had to look for a new hiding place all the time. He was clearly in advance. And what had she got? Nothing! No shoes, no socks, no trousers; not to think of a watch, a gun, or a cell phone. She had only two things: An xxl-oversized Football-T-Shirt, and one piece of underwear. That was not much.

But at least she had enough time to think about her situation. From what she could see, it was late afternoon; she had been watching the suns path for more than two hours now and could tell where the western horizon was. Here in the desert she had no moss on tree trunks, to decide where north may be, but the shadows pointed in "somewhat" this direction, and one more thing was left: Ants. Since her biology-classes at the high school she knew, that ants in the desert prefer to build their nest at the southeast side of the rocks or trees. So they get the warm morning-sunshine, and in the afternoon, when it is hot, the shadow of the bigger landmark would cool them down. She counted that together.

The street must be coming out of the northwest, leading southeast in almost one line. There were hills in the southeast, but that was a long way off, much too far to tell whether they were desert hills or if there were trees. The only thing that she knew for sure was, that she was somewhere in the desert – but there were many such landscapes in California. She tried to recall how much time passed, since she was abducted from home, because this could be a hint, where she might maybe be.

Teresa remembered almost everything. It was early morning, when she´d been taken hostage. Of course she was intelligent enough not to do something wrong, something that would have let to a rash-action of her kidnapper. While he carried her out, she could feel the muzzle of his gun pressing into her breast. If she´d tried one false movement in this situation, he might have shot her, but her brain was working as accurate as ever. Although she was remarkably affected by the gas grenade, she still had her instinct and her common sense. She was faking that she was totally unconscious, and thanks to the dark-grayish early morning sky, and the gas-mask her kidnapper was wearing, he did not see the truth.

Her muscles felt heavy as lead because of the gas; she surely was too slow to win fight at this moment, but she was not slow enough to bring her down. The kidnapper´s car was an old, rusty vehicle, and its trunk was so big that two persons would have fitted in. That fact was mere luck. If it had been a new car with an electronic system, that informed the driver on open doors, it would not have been so easy, maybe impossible. As the man shut the trunk, she had quickly jammed a part of her T-Shirt in the lock. It never closed completely, and she was sure, that she would be able to open it from the inside, whenever she wanted to. Of course she could not leave the trunk as long as the car was driving. She had no wish to stay any longer than needed with her kidnapper.

If possible, she planned to surprise and arrest him, and drive back to Sacramento with that car. The next thing she noticed was, that he was driving at a medium speed, fast enough to get away, but slow enough that no one noticed a strange behavior. But it would have also been possible that the old, rusty and squeaking car could not drive any faster.

At first she tried to count, how much time passed, but this did not work for long. The smell of gasoline and the fume out of the old, leaky exhaust pipe slowly came inside. She would have suffocated for sure, but fortunately enough fresh air could get into the trunk room through broken rust patches and the small slit that was between the trunk and it´s door because of the blocked lock. She lost counting, maybe the anesthetic that was still drifting through her body made her sleep for a while, but they were driving a very long time, longer than usual… Long enough to get in need for a bathroom…

When he finally stopped, Teresa was wide awake and ready to fight. He parked the car, turned off the engine, and then walked away, maybe to a toilet, or to buy some gasoline or food. If they really were at a gas station, it was easy for her to call her colleagues, and grab this bastard. She opened the trunk, the first inches slowly if he was somewhere nearby, but the wasn´t, so she jumped out of the hot trunk and hid behind the car. It was afternoon; the sun was well out of zenith but still high. And this was no gas-station. The place, where she found herself, was as deserted as any place could be. It _was_ in fact a gas-station, but so old and wrecked, that since at least ten years no one had been here. _An old, useless ghost-gas-station in the middle of the desert, how wonderful_.

She had to decide quickly. Not far away, maybe only in the shadow of the old station garage there was the engine of another car coming to life. The kidnapper had the plan to chance cars here. Unfortunately he had taken the keys of the old car with him, so Lisbon could not use it to get away – it was not enough time to short-circuit it. Taking a deep breath she started a short distance run to the station building, maybe there was still a telephone inside, but she had no chance to take one single look through the shattered windows – her kidnapper, who was now wearing a black mask of fabric, had seen her. He fired a shot out of his pistol at once.

Lisbon started a sprint to the next hiding place, closely followed by pump-gun-rounds, that hit the ground next to her and loud cries of wrath. She had definitely no intention to go back, but turned around while running. She saw that the kidnapper was now driving a strong, very new Dodge-Pickup, maybe the _Dodge Ram 2500_. With this vehicle it was possible for him to hunt her down even in the desert, and it looked like as if he was up to try it. The only possibility she had now was to run and get out of sight.

That was not as easy as one may think of it – running through the desert is a fine and exciting sport, really – but at least you would need shoes. Teresa knew, if she´d hurt herself, she would leave a nice and easy-to-follow blood trace. Therefore she was at the highest point of concentration in searching good spots where she could set her next steps. Everything else; where she ran to, or if this was right or wrong, was not important.

And now she sat here, in the shadow, relatively safe and sound, a little bit thirsty, but all right, except of a cut on her left palm, that had surely been bleeding, but was closed now. She did not know when or where she´d got that, but never mind. She had time enough to think about the situation, to make a plan and to look for a way home.

Fact one, she must be somewhere in a desert plain in the southeastern part of California. Was it really California? Or was this Nevada? Arizona? They had been driving a long time. If it was the Mojave Desert, she could try to reach the Mojave Desert Observe center? Was it far away? There must be some kind of ranger station, where she could find a telephone. Possible. _Hm_. But if she was not in California?

Maybe the other direction would be the right one? God, this is America! The possibility, that there was any street without an operating gas-station, was ridiculous. She still could see the old, deserted station far in the distance. The big black Dodge Pickup was now next to this building and turned round. For the moment it looked like as if he lost her. And what if he had called for help? She could never escape two or three cars. _What if, what if_, _what if!_ Stop that! Teresa had never been the person for "_what if_".

She watched the Pickup coming nearer to her position, pass by, turn round, and go back again southeast. Maybe there _was_ a telephone at the old gas station, but should she risk that? Her kidnapper still seemed to stay somewhat close to that old building, maybe he expected her to try to return there, to steal the other car, or to make a call? Maybe he knew that there was a phone and tried to use it as a trap. _You bet, sucker. Definitely not with me. I´ll find my way. _She smiled, and slipped out of the shadow, to a small passage between the thorny bushes. As soon as the car had turned round and drove to the other direction, she started to run forward. About a quarter of a mile later, she stopped; the Dodge Pickup was coming nearer again. Duck and hide, like a hunted animal. Not funny but necessary. The game repeated itself like ever, he stopped, took a look around for about five minutes, then he turned the car and went back to the gasoline station. When he stopped there to look around, she used this time to get a little more distance between them. It seemed to be an endless game, but sooner or later it would get dark and as soon it was dark she could use the street – as long as she was far enough away by then, so that the lights of the car could not reach her. Therefore she kept on searching for passages between the bushes.

Then he returned, and for a moment Teresa was afraid that he had seen her, because he stopped his car exactly parallel to her position in the bushes. But this time his behavior was different, and that draw her attention to the kidnapper. He left the car, but did not take his binoculars with him. Instead of that he started to phone.

Lisbon tried to sneak closer, maybe she could understand him. It would help a lot to overhear him when he was telling his position. Then she would know where she was exactly. It would be enough to get a route number, or some city name. Unfortunately, the area was much too open and the shadows not long enough, to get any closer. The sun was in the very late afternoon now, close to the start of dusk, but still there was too much light. She had to stop out of hearing range. She cursed, but the phone call was interesting, even if she could not understand a single word.

Something seemed to go wrong on the phone. Every second he was getting more nervous, finally he freaked out, cursed, and shot twice into the air with his gun. He smashed his cell-phone to the earth; it shattered to pieces on the rough street. Then he turned to the car and stuffed two handfuls of pump-gun ammunition and a spare magazine for his pistol into his pockets, then he took the heavy pump-gun out of his car.

»I´ll get you, at all costs, that call has been your death sentence! I´ll get you, if I have to burn down this whole place! This is a promise!« the man was really furious, and started to shoot. He aimed at every higher bush or tree, fired twice each time, and then he chose the next one. He must be nearly nuts, shot until the magazines were empty. He reloaded his pump-gun, changed the pistol magazine, and fired again. Finally he opened his Zippo, tried it, and smiled grimly while he started to collect dry grass and wood parts. All the time he was mumbling to himself. He was as outraged as one could be.

One round of shot out of his pump-gun, had hit the ground only a few inches next to Lisbon and a few pellets had hit or grazed her right upper arm as ricochet. It burnt like fire and she could feel this pain still, but she did not move, because then she would have been the easiest target ever. He was up to start a fire now. It was really dry, the grass was like straw and the other plants would also burn easily. She would have to get up sooner or later. That would be fatal, for sure…

That second, the kidnapper cried out loud. It was a fierce scream full of panic, not easy to fake. He cursed as hard as anyone could and shot four times into the heap of dry material that was in front of him, and then the pump-gun was empty again.

_That´s my chance_. Lisbon raced forward. This time she did not care for thorns or stones, which stung into her feet. She attacked the kidnapper only the blink of a moment later. Within seconds she had him face down on the dusty floor, and knelt on his lower back, holding his wrists tight, ready to put on an even tighter grip if he tried to free himself.

To her surprise, the kidnapper did not try to escape, he was motionless as a loaf of bread, and whimpered: »Help me please. Help me… my hand, look at my left hand.«

»What?«

»I´m poisoned, a rattlesnake bit me. Help me!«

Lisbon did not answer at once, she searched for another pump-gun ammunition or a third spare magazine for the gun in the pockets of his vest and trousers. There was only one bullet left for the pump-gun, but that was enough, if needed. She reloaded the weapon immediately, and stepped back from him, so that he could get up. Then she demanded: »Show me the bite mark.«

The man turned around slowly and sat up. The black mask was wet under his eyes, he was crying. He sobbed. Then he stretched out his left arm. There were really bite marks at the rim of his hand. »Got that beast, over there, eye for an eye, I say, but… I am poisoned, I… I don´t want to die! You can help me, can´t you, yes? Please.«

Teresa looked at dead body of the snake to prove her hunch. The bite mark did not fit a venomous snake, like a viper. It was an oval round of tiny teeth marks, not a two-pointed mark caused by fangs. The long colorful snake was no more than a big rat snake, and not poisonous. She hid her smile and told the kidnapper: »At first take off your mask, I need to see the color of your face. If you start to get pale, we must not lose any more time. And then you get up. Understood?«

The man was really afraid and removed the mask at once, and then he slowly stumbled to his feet, clutching his bitten hand with the other one. »What now? How much time do I have? When will I feel the venom? Does it hurt much? When will I die?«

»I can´t say.« Lisbon replied. »You moved a lot, when you were jumping round and trying to shoot the snake. The venom might have spread too far already. Give me your belt and your car keys.« She stretched out her free hand.

»Why?« he asked, suddenly suspicious. »What do you need them for?«

Teresa replied harshly: »Don´t you understand, man? I need the belt to ligature your arm, and I need the car to drive you to a hospital. I cannot call a helicopter unless you´ve got another cell-phone! Remember? You _smashed_ yours only minutes ago. Besides, you are starting to sweat, this is no good sign … so hurry up. No discussion.« She was close to laugh, but the man did not recognize that.

He handed over is belt, and the keys. Lisbon took the belt and put a ligature on the upper left arm of her kidnapper, then she suddenly grabbed his other arm, bent it backwards and tied his both arms up behind his back.

»What are you doing?« the man asked furious. »This is no help, I can´t move!«

Lisbon told him: »Don´t forget that I am a CBI-Agent, and you kidnapped me. It is uncomfortable, I know, but I´ve got to take some reassurance for me. And I have another request. Tell me what this is all about. If you try to lie to me, I´ll leave you here.«

The man panicked: »You can´t do that, you are a guardian of the law! You are a state agent! You can´t let me die! This is murder!«

»Oh, don´t try to tell me what I can do. Only five minutes ago _you_ tried to kill _me_. Your life is in my hands now and it is safe, I promise. If you speak now, and tell me what´s this all about, I´ll get you into the car, and off we go to a hospital. Understood? No second earlier. I want to be sure that I can trust you, so give me something.«

The kidnapper yelled: »Ok, ok, I´ll tell you, but please take me to a doctor. Please, please… I can feel the poison!« he tried to calm down a little bit, then he explained: »You are here for distraction. Whilst your friends are all trying to help you, the real plan will be unnoticed. Do something, please, it´s starting to hurt, I feel dizzy.«

For the flash of a second Lisbon was not sure, that the bite was really harmless. Maybe he was allergic to the snake saliva or some bacteria or dirt was in the wound. She went to the Dodge, opened the passenger door and let him sit down on the passenger seat. In addition to the leather belt she tied him up with the seat belt. He grunted indifferently.

»At first tell me your name.« the CBI-Agent said, while she sat down at the driver´s place. »After that, I´d like to be informed about that plan, you were talking about.«

He winced and muttered: »Thorpe. I´m called Thorpe. And I am dead if I tell you. I am only an accomplice, not the organizer. They will find out who talked.«

Teresa felt uncertain, and used the seconds that she needed to get the engine started, to reconsider her doing. She knew that the man was really afraid. Usually she tried to be honest and fair to the people around her; straight and correct, but always fair, even if they were suspects. But to force him to give away his secret she had to lie to him a little bit longer: »I can offer you protection. But that won´t work if you refuse to cooperate.«

»You are cruel.« the man whispered and sighed. »Ok. But please don´t let the poison kill me. I´ve heard that you suffocate painfully, as soon as the venom reaches the lungs.« He cleared his throat. »They are trying to get information about a man called Peter Thompson. I don´t know him but he must be very important. Would you please drive me to a doc now?«

»It won´t kill you, Mister Thorpe.« she told him, while started to drive. »The snake that bit you was a common rat-snake. The bite mark may hurt, and a doctor must have a look on it, but you are not poisoned.«

»Promise? Really? No poison?« the kidnapper asked, sobbing in relief.

Teresa said: »Yeah. But don´t think of trying something stupid. You are under arrest. You have the right to say nothing, and everything you say can be used against you at the court. You also have the right to call an attorney, should you not be able to pay one, the state will offer you an advocate.«

He hissed: »Haha, you are telling me my rights now, after I´ve spoken? You´ve played a bad trick on me… that´s been unfair.«

»Unfair? Maybe. But come to think of it, who started all this?« she smiled. »And where heck are we? Do you have a navigation system?«

He answered: »It was an app at my cell-phone, and that is gone. But just follow that road, you´ll meet route forty. There´s no other street here.«

Lisbon requested: »Why did you go that far with this old rusty car? We´re hours away from Sacramento, even if we have a good car now. Wouldn't it had been enough to take me to the next wood or river bed, or some secret hideout at the suburbs?«

»I won´t tell you anything more.« he did not look at her at first, but then he turned his head, and said: »By the way, I think you´re bleeding.«

She answered: »It will stop… I hardly feel it, but thanks. There are more important things to think about now.«

Lisbon fell silent, busy with thoughts. She was aware to every movement her prisoner made, but he was tied tight and if he tried to free himself she´d be warned. The plan seemed to be simple. It was the kidnapper´s duty to distract all the attention of the CBI and the other law enforcement organizations in Sacramento. Teresa was sure, that they were all searching her. Maybe he had threatened them even more by a phone call or by a letter. What in the world would be easier than to tell them that he was up to kill her? Everyone would try even harder to rescue her. _And… hm._ For sure no one would want to lose any time, looking over one´s own shoulder, at the things that happen behind their backs. It was like poking into a wasps nest with a stick, all wasps try to attack the main suspect.

Up to this point the story was as clear as crystal. _Kidnapping – distraction – secret plan_. But, if she´d call now at the CBI, and tell them that she was safe, and had already arrested her kidnapper… _that_ could be a fault. The others, the real planners behind that whole story, could get a hint and disappear in silence. If this mysterious Mister Peter Thompson meant as much to them as Lisbon thought; for sure they would try again to get him. If she let them escape now, maybe next time their plan would be even more dangerous. In addition to that she did not know, if they had already been successful in getting the information about Mister Thompson – it could be possible that they were already up to kill or kidnap him. Too many hours had passed since she left Sacramento.

Teresa also assumed, that meanwhile every police department in California was informed about her kidnapping. As soon as she´d step into a police station, they would tell the CBI, and the chance of catching the hidden criminals will be gone. Ok, she could try to talk to them and try to explain her plan, but maybe it was too hard to understand for them. It would be enough if someone, who wished to be some kind of hero would talk.

So she decided for something else: To keep her secret. Funnily enough she could think of only one person to call – _Jane_. He´d understand for sure. He´d be able to get the others of the team out of the office, so that they could talk quietly.

Dusk had begun, until Teresa finally reached a crossroad. The small street melted into the much bigger route forty. Next to the crossroad there was some sort of little shopping mall, including a gas-station, a medium sized supermarket and liquor shop, and some kind of fast-food-restaurant, a little game zone; maybe a small motel for overnight stay and a car repair garage. Behind the fast food restaurant there was a drive-in-cinema. It looked like as if this was some kind of next-to-the-road fun center in the middle of nowhere. At first, Lisbon hesitated to leave the car. She was afraid that the kidnapper would make an attempt to free himself, but she couldn't take him with her either. But if she´d leave him here, and someone spotted him being kept in the car by force, that person might call the police. _Damned_.

»Can you really promise that those people won´t get me?« Thorpe asked at a low voice. »Do you promise that I will get out of it, somehow?«

»I´ll offer you all protection I can give to you.« Teresa answered. »But you must know and remember one thing: I am going to bring you to court. You´re a burglar and you kidnapped a CBI-Agent.« she sighed. »If the people that hired you are that though that you think they are, they might be up to kill you after you´ve done your work. Have you ever thought about this?«

Thorpe cleared his throat, and then he answered: »Yeah, I thought of that, of course. I didn´t like the way they looked on me. So I thought, I´d get away with this car and a little bit of money to Mexico … That's why a asked your people for ransom.« he sighed. »But now I am really afraid, I failed, and wherever I go, they´ll get me.«

Lisbon said, to calm him down: »I have to make a phone call now. I think that you are clever enough to keep your head low. As soon as the people who hired you, get to know, that you failed, they will be after you. As long as they think that everything is all right, you are important to them because they need you.«

Thorpe sighed: »I should have called them as soon as I am at the ghost town, but I didn't because I never got there. They must already know that I failed.«

»Ok, that´s bad news. How much money do you carry with you?«

Thorpe answered: »About two hundred fifty bucks for gas and food. Why?«

»I need it. I´ll pay it back. They sell prepaid phones at the gas-shop.«

He nodded and pointed at the back seat. »It´s in my jacket.«

Teresa put on the jacket, she still had only her night shirt. It would look strange enough that she was there without trousers or shoes. Her shoulder still hurt; the more as she moved it. Maybe she´ll have a look into the medicine pack of the car, later. The most important thing now was to get a cell-phone. At first the shop owner tried to talk her into a longer discussion about buying the newer, more expensive telephone. He maybe thought that she was some kind of hillbilly girl on a town trip, but she didn´t even listen to him and chose the cheaper cell-phone and a charger unit for the cigar-lighter. There was still a bunch of bucks left; so she went to the supermarket to get at least a pair of cheap sandals ad a jogging suit. There was barely enough left to buy two bottles of water and two small chocolate bars, but she had the luck, to get everything. Then she returned to the car. Her captive was waiting patiently; it seemed as if he had finally chosen to cooperate. She did not trust him entirely, but it was some kind of relief to find him quiet.

She put the charger into the cigar-lighter and held water bottle in front of him. He smiled and took a long sip, using his drinking straw. »Thank you.«

Thank god the cell phone was usable during charging too, so Lisbon turned it on and looked at the display. Finally it enlightened and she sighed in relief.

»What´s the number?« she asked Thorpe. »I´ll dial, you talk.«

»Five-five-five, three-eight-six-seven.« the man answered and started to sweat. »But what should I tell them? I am more than two hours late now and they will be angry.«

»Tell them you´re fine and that you call in late because you had a little trouble. Think of something.« The phone rang out loud.

Suddenly there was a male voice out of the telephone: »Yes? Who´s there?«

»Its me.« Thorpe answered and gulped.

»You are late and the phone number changed. Something wrong?«

»No! No…« Thorpe lied. »Just had problems, car broke down, and um, the cell phone battery was done, so... Couldn´t call help, you know, had to walk to the gas station by foot and get the Pick-up. Cost me nearly one hour, and then I had to get rid of that old vehicle. But I´m here now, what´d I do?«

Lisbon waved her hands. He must not talk too much, because that would look suspicious. It was already a dangerous little game to explain the new telephone number and the delayed call. The man at the other end of the telephone line seemed to be a stony person. He asked short and accurate questions and tried to make the others talk instead of giving away something.

The unknown man at the phone said: »Shoot your hostage, bury the body. As soon as they discover the corpse, you will get the money.« The man hung up.

»Very nice.« Lisbon said sarcastic. »Sounds like a very likable pal.«

Thorpe was very pale and nodded. To calm him down Lisbon offered him a bite off his chocolate bar and another sip of water. After that she took the phone again and dialed Jane´s number. It seemed to her as if the ringing tone lasted for ages.

Finally, the line call was answered: »Patrick Jane.«

There was some strange undertone in his words, but she could not really tell, she... she was struggling to cope with her feelings. Until now Teresa did not know how happy she´d really be to hear his voice. She was astonished - but right now there was no one else she´d like to talk to except him: »Jane, it´s me.« she said.

»Lisbon!« his voice seemed to reflect his one-million-dollar-smile: »You call in late. I must say, I expected to hear from you earlier. What kept you? Are you getting old?«

»Stop joking, Jane.« Lisbon smiled too. »I´ve got very important news, can you somehow get a grab on Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt? I´ve to talk to all of you.«

»Um, if it´s about the fact that you were only kidnapped to distract the concentration of the CBI, then you´re much too late. I found that out _hours_ ago… so there´s nothing new to that. Besides, Senior Agent Donnaly seems to be a little bit sour, you´ll have to clear that, as soon as you are here. Ah, by the way, where are you? Need a taxi?«

Teresa was slightly depressed. Of course he knew! He did not seem concerned about her, not a little bit. She sighed and said: »No, Jane, I do not need a taxi, I´ve got the kidnapper´s car, but I´m a few hours out of Sacramento. And I´ll keep my head down for a while. So tell no one that I called, except the team, of course. Where are they now?«

»Van Pelt is here, as soon as I get the chance to give her a signal, I´ll do so. Rigsby and Cho are out – they told Donnaly that they "want something like some fresh air". But of course they aren´t. They´re up to find out, who killed our postman, Mister Wilkins. He was the one who brought the envelope containing your bloody cross.«

»Our postman is dead?« Lisbon asked. »You think that he has been eliminated ere he could tell us something important?«

Jane said: »Yeah, I do. Ah, I can see Van Pelt now…« for a second he was far away, then his voice returned, as quiet as a whisper, but hearable enough: »It´s good to hear your voice. See you soon, Lisbon.«

»Thank you, Jane, let me talk to Grace now, will you?«

Shortly later Van Pelt was on the phone. »Boss, Jane says you´re ok? That's great.« she said, sounding relieved. »I can´t stay long. The team has agreed to try to keep things happen as they were planned by _them_. As soon as one notices, that you´re safe, ah… of course you know that. Until now long there was nothing new. Rigsby called in five minutes ago, they´re checking out the postman´s daily route, but that´s difficult, no one is able to reconstruct the whole tour… but we keep on trying.«

Lisbon whispered: »Good work, Van Pelt. Check out a man called Peter Thompson. I think that I know this name, but I got no hint why. My captive said that this is all about him. Maybe you got a start with this.«

Grace was happy: »Yes of course, boss, I´m on it. Keep in touch with Jane, he´s been banned off the office, and they look after him rarely enough.« She handed the phone back to the CBI Consultant and returned to her table. No one had noticed her absence.

Lisbon told Jane: »I´ll hang up. As soon as you got something, let me know.«

Cho and Rigsby were some kind of desperate. It was getting late now. The most people they visited were at home, and all of them were harmless citizens, and they were really sorry to hear that the postman died. The two agents were used to evaluate the behavior of suspects, but there was no sign that they had something to do with the case. There was another office building on the postman's route. It was already closed, but the night guard that was patrolling the place informed them, that the post was collected at the entrance by the secretary, and that they´d have to ask her in the morning.

»Right now you can only look at our video tape. We film the entrance area. Come.« He took them into the surveillance room and searched for the daily entry. »We save the filming material for three days, if there is nothing suspicious it is wasted automatically. But look.« In the moment that they started to concentrate on the tape, Cho´s phone rang out.

He did not know the calling number, therefore he was wary: »Agent Cho?«

»It´s Lisbon speaking. How´s it going?«

»Oh, hi, boss.« Cho was glad to hear her voice, but as usual he did not show much of an emotion. Rigsby turned round to him, smiling and pointing thumbs up. Cho continued: »Rigsby is also happy to get news from you.« then he explained: »We are in the office building of Harper´s and Downey right now, and look at the surveillance tape. We have one big difficulty here, we can´t say when or where Wilkins got this letter. All the people we checked are ok, but there still are parts of his tour we cannot reconstruct. As soon as he is out on the street again, he is out of reach. It was early morning, and many people were up to get to their work. Even if we spot some traffic or security cameras at street corners or outside shops, we would need much luck to get a glimpse on the postman.«

Teresa said: »Don´t worry, Cho, you did good work. At least you´ve eliminated a mass of people off the list of suspects. Keep on trying, but don't spend too much time outside. I´ve agreed to Jane´s plan to keep up the play, maybe we can catch them as soon as they leave their hideout. Ah, by the way, do you recall someone called Peter Thompson?«

Cho started to think about this name, meanwhile he asked: »Eh, Rigsby, do you know something about a guy named Thompson?«

Wayne stared at the TV screen, and answered: »Peter Thompson?«

Cho replied: »Yeah, Peter Thompson. You know him?«

»Ah yeah, he´s the state´s evidence for the Lazar-Levine-case and part of our witness protective program.« he stopped the film and turned round: »That´s Senior Agent Price´s major case. Why are you asking? Is he somehow involved?«

»Did you hear that, boss?« Agent Cho asked into the telephone.

Lisbon answered: »Yes, I did. Please call Jane and tell him. If someone is up to get some secret data on the whereabouts of Mister Thompson, they have to try to sneak into the CBI-building. Tell Van Pelt to be aware.«

Cho confirmed: »We´ll do that. Shall Rigsby and I keep on trying to find out something about the unknown man who gave the blackmail letter to the postman?«

»Yeah, do so, but let yourself be seen in the CBI sooner or later, to prevent them from getting suspicious. Van Pelt and Jane can carry on your business. I´ll be there soon.«


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Only four words 

Grace tried to use her computer as secret as possible. The name of Peter Thompson was a good point to start. She soon found out that the "Lazar-Levine-Case" was deep in corruption, murder, and human slave trade – the main suspect, this disgusting Lazar- Levine-guy had been accused to sell young women or even underage girls to his clients. The women and children were taken in their homeland countries, and brought to the US illegally for the false promise of a better life. They were misused twice; first they had to pay everything they had to their transporter, then they were sold to someone and had no chance to do anything.

They were completely exploited, had no I.D., no money, most of them weren´t even able to speak English. Lazar Levine was also the main suspect in at least one murder; he killed a young woman who was able to flee from her slave drivers. Unofficially he might have ordered more killings. There were rumors that Levine paid bribe-money to a couple of police officers too. These officers patrolled the brothel-district, and were paid not to look too closely at the age of the girls that worked in Levine's club, the "Lucky L", but this part of the file was through, the officers had been replaced and there was no sign that the new police patrol also took money. Since a few weeks the "Lucky L" seemed to be a nice, harmless bar.

Peter Thompson was one of his former comrades, but out of bad luck he ran into a random check and toppled over a pound of heroin. At this point of the file Grace was forced to a stop. All the other information was still top secret and the only ones who had access were the unit of Senior Agent Price. She cursed under her breath and closed the file, so that no one could see her work, and got up. Where the heck was Patrick? She wanted to tell him about her newest information, but she could not see him anywhere, but then she had a hunch, and it was not a good one.

Jane was banned out of the big bureau, but he´d opened the lock of Lisbon´s private office. She opened the door a little bit. The roller blinds were down and closed, the lights off, and he looked like as he was sleeping, stretched out on Lisbon's couch. His tea-cup was still on her desk. Van Pelt slightly rolled her eyes, as she entered the room of her boss.

»Get up. Don´t pretend to sleep« she whispered harshly. »You are only in here to anger Donnaly, aren´t you? He said only his colleagues and he are allowed to enter this room, and… Jane, do you listen to me?«

»Yeah, I hear your words, Grace. Donnaly did not say that I must not go in here. I like this couch, I like the quietness… and I am closer to you than I am up at the roof floor. So, what brings you here? Not only the attempt to scare me out here, right?«

She smiled: »No. I´ve checked on Peter Thompson.«

»And?«

»He´s a real bad guy, well… was, I suppose. He made some kind of deal with the prosecuting attorney. He´d be in court, as the principal witness against Lazar Levine, and they say that he knows enough to deliver Levine without doubt. Thompson is in our witness protective program, and now it´s easy to enlighten that all. They want to know where this Thompson guy is. We´ve got all the important information at the CBI, so I think that sooner or later they will show up here to get what they want. The information is not in the network, it is here in the building, off line. So they must try to sneak in here and take a look in the real paper file. If they had not already done it.«

»I don´t think that they´d been here already. No, there´s still too much movement in this building. It is calm, controlled movement, everyone is focused on his work, but there are still too many people around. Whoever is their contact in here, he or she can´t risk to be seen whilst getting such important information. I think they´ll do some kind of masterpiece, to get as much as possible Agents and S.W.A.T members out of the building. And then it´s going to get really interesting. Got something else?«

Van Pelt nodded: »Yes, of course. Levine was in detention awaiting trial, but is free on bail. A big bail. Fifty thousand Dollars. He is still holding his night club called the "Lucky L" in this town. In fact, he owns half of the block over there, and he spends all night there.«

Jane set up: »Grace, would you like to date me?«

»Heh?«

»I mean, please let us have a nice evening outside the CBI building.«

Van Pelt sighed deeply: »You want to go to the "Lucky L.", am I right?«

»I never said that, but, _hm_, it would be nice to visit our new friends, wouldn´t it?«

The red haired agent sighed again and said: »Meet you outside in ten minutes, ok? I just try to get a photo of Mister Levine somehow, so that we make him out at once.«

»I´ll get you some time.« Jane said.

Grace smiled at him, and turned round. She left the office of Lisbon at a fast pace and no one noticed her. Everyone was busy evaluating file data, when she returned to her desk, but only a few moments later trouble started. This was her time frame, she had to get and print the photo now… or never. Therefore she was the only one who did not look what was going on. She heard it, of course, and knew that Jane did that only for her, he could have slipped out of Lisbon´s office unseen and unnoticed, but he did not.

Donnaly spotted Jane walking out of Lisbon's room. »This can´t be true.« he mouthed in disbelief, and rushed forward, yelling: »What do you think you are doing?«

Patrick stretched himself as cool as one could please. Then he answered, while he was yawning: »Well, ah, what´s it look like? Sleeping. I was _sleeping_. But don´t blame me, that´s your fault.« He closed the door.

Donnalys head was getting reddish: »Why is it my fault when you break into someone else's office? Are you kidding me?«

»Of course not, I wouldn´t dare to. But it was _you_ who banned me out of the big bureau and as you might have noticed _my_ couch is in there. So tell me, where else could I get some sleep than on another couch?« he smiled a faked grin. »See?«

Agent Donnaly might have been furious enough to rip of Patrick´s head, but he chose that this wasn´t really worth it. Instead of killing his nerve racking opposite, he complained about one other thing that was nagging him since a while: »And where are Cho and Rigsby, by all means, they went away somewhat unexcused… and hours have passed now. They should be here, and help. I cannot do proper work if everyone freaks out round me!«

Jane made him look to the elevator by a head movement: »There they are, and luckily they brought my dinner. Hey, here we are! Oh man, I am really hungry.« He waved at his colleagues and they changed the direction towards them.

As soon as Cho was near enough, Donnaly turned at him: »You are in charge for Agent Lisbon's team, and his behavior, aren´t you? You have to know what happened while your absence. Patrick Jane entered this office without permission!« he pointed at the door with his outstretched finger. »I´m sure he was snuffling round there, just to blame me.«

»Ah.« Chos face was like an iron mask.

Rigsby handed over the very cold food box to Jane and tried to communicate with him just by eye contact, but it did not work properly because of the funny conversation that Cho had started with Donnaly. It was too need to listen to them.

»What do you mean by saying _ah_?« the Senior Agent demanded. »Is it usual that someone manipulates door locks and enters the room of an absent person?«

»Have you seen him snuffling round?« Kimball asked.

»No, not really. But the door isn´t closed anymore. Or is it? See, its open.« he longed for the door and opened it, then closed it again. »You can walk in or out.«

Cho was not impressed: »That's only logical, how could this man pass through if it wasn´t open? He is no ghost. Or are you a ghost nowadays, Jane?«

Jane said: »I don´t think so.« He checked his pulse at this wrist. »No, I am alive.«

Donnaly sighed: »That is exactly what I am trying to tell you. He surely unlocked the door by some trick and went in, although I said that I do not wish that. I am the only wone who is allowed to go in there. He does that only to… test me, I think.«

Again Cho replied with another question: »So you have seen him manipulate the door lock then? Or do you also only _assume_ that he broke it?«

»I didn´t see him. But… it is not his bureau.« Donnaly was beginning to get exhausted.

»It is not your bureau either. Remember this morning? It was _you_ who broke the door-lock; because _you_ thought that something interesting is in there. And you did it without any presence of one of Agent Lisbon's team. Van Pelt was here – and you did not inform her, that you´re up to break into the office of the boss. At least Jane is somewhat closer to her than you are, and as I recall, you only banned him out of the big office where we´re working. I think, you never told him that he is not allowed to go a room nearby?«

»No, not exactly, but I thought he will disappear upstairs into his thinking-chamber-thing at the roof floor.«

Cho sighed: »In a situation like this, Lisbon missing, all waiting for a new demand or the worst case news, you expect him to disappear to an isolated area? You must be kidding. We´re all deeply concerned on Agent Lisbon´s fate, and you can´t deny that the boss trusts Jane like rarely anybody else. So could we please settle down this childish discussion, we´re all grown and have enough other sorrows.«

Donnaly looked at his own feet for a moment. »Yeah, maybe that´s right, but…«

Jane interrupted: »Nice meeting, really, and thanks Cho, for jumping in. But, _um_, got to go.« he smiled again. »Agent Donnaly, do you like Chinese food? It´s fresh and some kind of… peace pipe.« He handed the food box to the paralyzed Agent Donnaly, turned round and stepped into the elevator.

Rigsby looked at him a moment longer, then for the glimpse of a second, ere the doors closed, Jane gave him a wink, two hurried hand signs, and a smile. At first Wayne wrinkled his brow, but after a few moments he understood and smiled too.

While Donnaly, who was really stunned, walked slowly away to get rid of the ice-cold food pack, Rigsby slipped into Lisbon´s office, took the half full tea cup from the table and was outside again ere someone noticed.

Cho mumbled: »Oh, I wish the boss back as fast as possible. Jane can be really some kind of exhausting.« he did not mean that all too serious, but a little bit of that was true. »And what have _you_ got there?«

»Tea.« Rigsby said. »Let´s go to the kitchen, I think Jane wants us to check out something that's in or under this cup.«

They found a little stripe of paper, folded accurately under the bottom of the tea cup. The words were so small that they could hardly see them, but their eyes worked well, so after a little bit of focusing, it was no problem.

Rigsby started to read: »Grace and I have a look-a-round at Lazar Levine's bar. Want to see how sure and safe L thinks he is. Check Prices office for Thompson file and keep it safe, G thinks they might try to sneak the CBI to get to know his whereabouts. Think of some distraction. Pls find out where Thompson is in case they´re already on him. J.«

»Ok, that´s really an information.« Rigsby criticized sarcastically. »He sort of tells us to dig in to Price´s filing cabinet. Nothing easier than that… ha, ha.«

Cho replied: »Its much more than we found out.« he took a lighter out of the kitchen supply and burnt the little letter. »We´ve to go back to work. Let´s pretend that we´re up to help Donnaly again, to calm him down a little bit.«

Rigsby nodded: »Ok. But as soon as possible we´ve got to get that file… we´ve lost hours without knowing that they might be after this information. What if they already got it? Many people went in and out today… policemen, coroners, visitors, reporters…«

»Yes, I know.« Kimball Cho replied. »But if it would have been so easy to sneak out of Donnalys reach, I am sure Jane or Van Pelt would have made an attempt to get it. No, we´ve got to think that over. We haven´t been in the office the last hours, let´s check out the atmosphere there.« He smiled. »He, Rigs, keep an eye on your e-mails, will you?«

Wayne grinned, took himself a cup of office coffee and went back to his desk. There was a pile of files waiting for him. All members of Donnalys team looked at him and Cho in a little disturbed way, their eyes weary and their hopes fading. It was clear that they had worked through a mass of files yet, they hadn´t stopped for hours and seemed to be disappointed that Cho and Rigsby seemed to be so careless about that case.

In a way it was unfair to keep them in their uncertain situation. They were all working very hard to get Lisbon back although there seemed to be no chance. Everyone except Lisbon´s own team, who knew the truth, was very concerned.

Donnaly sighed and clapped his hands: »Please, folks, another hour has passed. Let´s have a short brain-storming again. Has anybody found anything interesting until now?«

All agents looked to him in a desperate manner, and shook their heads. Only one of them, Angelina Cook, said: »I´ve got that Carnelian-case, Lisbon worked on a few years ago. But this is a dead end too, I fear. We´ve only had this murdered parachute jumper in the Mojave Desert. But I see no connections to anyone who wants revenge.«

Donnaly nodded: »Ok, carry on.« he turned to Wayne: »Rigsby, you seem to wonder what we were doing here? Definitely you do, you have been absent a long time. We´ve got to talk about that strange absence later, remember that. But back to business now – I decided that we´ll do a brainstorming at the end of every hour that passed. So we can maybe find a missing link between cases that we checked in that time. Is this ok to you?«

Rigsby replied: »Of course it is.« He buried himself in one file. It was really difficult to get away; at every desk in this office there were two people sitting, even at Jane´s desk in the edge. Donnaly kept an eye on all of them, especially those, who he did not know well.

Now the boss of this investigation said sarcastically: »I think of something else, that has to be explained to our long-missed-friends.« he looked at Cho and Rigsby as if he wanted to punish them only with his gaze. Then his voice chanced to another, more serious undertone: »We are close to be convinced that Agent Lisbon is dead.«

Cho did not move a muscle, but Rigsby startled.

Donnaly carried on: »There was no other demand, not even any communication since that devastate call hours ago. This is very bad… I mean, we still hope to get her back alive, but please be prepared to face the worst case.«

Meanwhile, Jane and Van Pelt were in the cab to the "Lucky L" club. The driver, a woman in her middle ages, tried to keep her eyes on the street, but she was nosy. It was clear to her that those two were on a secret meeting. The woman did not wear a wedding ring, but he did, and she was so much younger than the guy. But altogether they did not look like as if they would fit into a dark surrounding like the street corners in the brothel-district.

After a while the driver asked: »Ah, don´t blame me but I think the "Lucky L" might not be the right thing for you. I know a much friendlier place to go, it's a little cocktail bar in the city, a nice view to the river, gentle music, good drinks…«

Jane smiled at her and replied: »Thank you for that proposal but my little girl and I are searching for something more adventurous, am I right, dear? Like a nice threesome, or a special-outfit-evening, leather and steal, if you understand, what I mean.«

Grace tried not to roll her eyes, and forced herself to a nod and a greasy smile. »I am so happy that he has so good ideas. It never bores me when I am with him.«

The driver turned round again and concentrated on the street. Ten minutes later they arrived in front of the "Lucky L" club. The music was audible even here in front of the doors. It was not too late in the evening, but even now it seemed to be high life in this club.

Jane placed his arm round Van Pelts waist and went forward to the bouncer. »Good evening, pal.« he said, smiling brightly. »Let us in, ok? My lady and I hate it to wait.«

»Excuse me, do we know each other?« the big, muscle-man was irritated.

Patrick frowned and wrinkled his brow: »Now _this_ is really surprising me! You don´t know who I am?« his voice was getting angry: »How long are you working here? I mean, that's a bit much.« he sighed annoyed and demanded: »Take out your phone now and call Lazar, ok? Call him and tell him that you dare it to block my way. Wait, no, forget it, I´ll call him myself. Um…What´s your name? I´ll tell him that you upset me. Wait a bit.«

The door-keeper raised a hand: »I am Tom, oh, um, why are you asking? No, Stop please. I do not want to mess up with Mister Levine or one of his friends. Please come in and tell the barkeeper that you are invited to a drink on me charge, ok? I am sorry, ok?«

»Nah, I´ll think about it. Maybe I´ll forget to complain… I only want to spend a nice evening with my lady, understood? And keep on working, Tommy-boy.«

The doors were opened and soon they were surrounded by colored lights, music, strange smells and the fine scent of alcohol. There was flight of stairs that led down to a hall which was separated in two main floors. The ceiling was plated with silver and mirrors and pillars that were arranged in a half round arcade, shored it up. The smaller arcade that led along the wall sides, where they were standing in the moment, was a few steps higher than the bigger ground floor. At this floor there were smaller, round tables, chairs and benches at the side. Three men were seated down here, each one on a separate table. At the gallery floor small separate coves were built into the side walls, each one having one big bench in the rear and one table. Everyone seemed to be reserved, in two of them there were already guests waiting for the service. The big bar was placed at the right side of the main floor, the middle and the whole left side of the bar was a stage. Almost naked girls were dancing there; but all of them looked like as if they were at least eighteen, or even twenty-one, so no one could blame Levine on this. Everything seemed to be perfectly according to the law – and that was just a little too perfect.

»What do we do now?« Grace asked, a little bit uneasy. »There are not many guests yet, and the VIP-room is still empty.« She pointed over her shoulder to a separate place in the first floor, opposite the stage. The stairs they had used to come down here led through right under this room. Big glass windows surrounded that separate room, and it was some kind of half-dark inside. A person who was in this separate room could overview the whole club, the bar, and the stage. There was no one in there yet, but in the dim light they could see expensive furniture and an own, exclusive bar.

That moment, a waiter passed by: »If you haven´t got a reservation, you can only sit down at the bottom floor at one of these four tables.« he pointed them out. Of course they were the poorest in the whole bar. »All the cozy coves are reserved. You could also stand at the bar, but if you plan a longer evening, take a table.«

Grace told him: »Thanks for that info, but the tables you´ve shown us are inacceptable. They are either right under the speakers or next to the restroom exit. Our big friend, Tom, the entrance guy, told us that you´ll be very nice to us, and he offered us a drink on his bill. We want a good table, ok, and I´ll get a Tequila Sunrise first, and… and you, darling?« she smiled at Jane.

»I´ll have a Bloody Mary.«

The waiter looked at them in disbelief, and took out his phone. A few seconds later everything was clear. »You can sit wherever you want down here. Tom said you are friends. I´ll get your drinks ready in a moment.« he said. They took a table in the middle of the room, where it was possible to look at the VIP room unnoticed. Soon the waiter returned and served the drinks. They seemed to be delicious, but before they could try them, there was a movement in the VIP-room. Grace turned round and risked a short look at the persons, who entered that room. They were coming through a back door, and the additional light helped her to see that Lazar Levine was one of them. »He´s up there.« she said. »And with him four others, maybe two bodyguards and two business partners. It does not seem as if they were up to start a party. It looks like a meeting.«

»Let us watch him for a while.« Jane said. He did not turn around; instead he rose and went to the bar. The whole wall behind the bar was a mirror; in most places there were bottles on glass boards in front of the reflecting surface, but Jane spotted a place where he could see the background clearly. Three men were talking in the VIP room, two others were waiting besides the door like frozen; maybe they were bodyguards. Van Pelt was right, it was too dark to see anything clearly. It was impossible to try to read their lips or interpret the gestures. If Patrick wanted to know what was going on, he had to get closer.

»How can I get up there?« he asked the barkeeper, who looked at him, as if Jane had slapped him in the face.

»This is Mister Levine´s private celebrating room, only a selected group of people is allowed to be there with him. And ere you ask, it is impossible to pay enough money to get in there. He only invites people he likes.«

»Could you possibly lend me a pen and a napkin?«

The barkeeper was suspicious, but handed the two things over.

Patrick wrote a few words on the napkin, folded it and gave it back to the barkeeper. »Would you please be so kind to bring this to Mister Levine?«

»What´s that?« the barkeeper was getting nosy.

Jane replied: »If you dare, then look at it, but I think Mister Levine wouldn´t be very pleased. And… he wouldn´t be very pleased either, if I would take this napkin back and let´s say… "drop" it in front of the next police station.« He smiled.

The barkeeper looked at him as if he was stricken by lightning, then he left the bar through a camouflaged back door. Jane returned to the table and took a sip of his drink. »Woah, yuck… too much Worchester-sauce. They are trying to poison me…«

Van Pelt tried to get an explanation: »Would you tell me please what´s going to happen next? Do I have to be prepared to something?«

»We need to get closer to Lazar Levine. Whatever happens, just stay close to me, ok? Maybe we will need your skills and weapons to get out.« Patrick said.

Grace sighed: »That's not what I wished to hear, but all right. It is too late now.«

The barkeeper returned at a fast pace, accompanied by one of the big bodyguards out of the VIP room: »Who the heck are you?« the barkeeper asked.

The bodyguard said: »Mister Levine will be happy to see you. Now.« He was not friendly nor grim, just professional. »Come with me. Both.«

They went through the same back door the barkeeper had used before. Immediately they were surrounded by another atmosphere. Here in the back there were many doors, each one carrying a number. At least ten could be seen along that alley, and there were another ten upstairs. Jane and Van Pelt got no clue of what there might be behind these doors, but all around there was an uneasy atmosphere. At the far end of the alley there was the fire exit but it could be opened only by a key, because there was no handle or knob.

The bodyguard guided them one floor upwards, and then to the right, where they could see a black door made of safety material. There was a camera next to the door and it opened after a certain amount of knocks. They entered the private VIP-Lounge. Through the big glass front one could see every important part of the club, and in one corner there were a few monitors showing pictures of cameras. One of them was at the front entrance gate.

»I do not remember you, Mister…« the man called Lazar Levine started a talk. He was a tall, thin person with black hair. Levine looked like a big, long legged spider which tried to stand upright, and all his creepy behavior fitted this first impression.

»I am Mister Runner. _Road_ Runner. And you´re the big ugly Coyote, no?« He smiled at the other man. »At first I have to admit that I only wrote you this silly letter because I wanted to get upstairs… give no damned meaning to these words. I´ve just been kidding.« He stretched out his hand to greet.

Levine growled: »Really funny. What are you? Clown or suicide?«

»Neither.« Patrick replied.

The owner of the bar ordered one of his bodyguards: »Gary, get him out here and tell him that I do not like that kind of jokers. He cracked his fingers. And meanwhile, his Lady will do a little favor to me.« he turned to Van Pelt: »If you refuse my wish, you don´t have to be in a hurry to take him to a hospital. Understood, my dear?«

Jane was as happy as ever: »Don´t you want to know who I really am, ere you let your boys beat me up? Maybe I am more interesting to you than you can imagine.«

»Something tells me, that I´m going to have loads of fun with you, guy.« Levine replied with his voice full of loathing sarcasm. »Maybe I should mix you up myself, or I should take you to room number ten for an hour or two…« he smiled. »Yes, maybe you´ll like room number ten. And your little Red Delicious might be happy to visit our chamber number… eh…« he paused, and turned to the other men that were in his private room. When he turned back, his face was full of awful excitement. »She´ll stay with us.«

The situation seemed to be getting only worse, but Jane still had no intention to go: »Room number ten, that´s some kind of death sentence, is it?«

Levine smiled: »No, boy, I don´t think that they´d kill you… maybe by chance, but… I think you´ll survive it – even if you´d wish that you´d be dead by then.«

»Oh.« Patrick replied, looking a little bit stunned, but he recovered his good manners very fast: »Does a man who´s been judged to a very unpleasant experience have a last wish? Or at least _sort of_ a last wish, because it is only _sort of_ a death sentence?«

Lazar Levine asked: »You do not look like as if you are afraid of me. That's interesting, really. And, I´ve got to admit, it impresses me.« he smiled a little bit. »That does not mean, that you´ll out of it now, but at least I will offer you a last wish. Please sit down, both of you.« he showed them the smooth, black leather sofa. »What do you like?«

Patrick sat down first, and pulled Grace so close to him as if they were Siamese twins. Her heartbeat jumped to an even faster pace than it had been already. »Tea please.« he said. »Black tea, a little bit of milk and one piece of sugar. But please be aware that the water is really boiling. And put in the milk first. Thank you.« he ordered.

Levine smiled like a rattlesnake that was ready to bite, then he asked the red haired agent: »And for you, my sweetie?«

»Nothing.« Van Pelts voice was like ice.

»As you wish.« Levine said and sat down. He looked at his prey like a hungry vulture, and the other two men, who did not say any word, seemed to be as eager as he was.

Jane turned his head to the side as if to kiss Grace´s cheek, but instead of that he whispered: »As soon as they open the door to bring me out, we run – shoot that fire door lock.« His words were concealed by the flush the coffee-machine issued while the barkeeper pressed the hot water button.

Van Pelt tried to tell him that the distance between the VIP-Lounge and the fire exit was too long to guarantee a smooth flight, but she had no chance; there was no noise any more. It was as quiet and as cozy as on a graveyard.

The barkeeper placed the teacup in front of Jane, then he hurried back to his standard place; he was not allowed to stay to close to the conversations of his boss. But they did not speak, it was as if they all were waiting for Jane to finish his last slap-up tea.

All for a sudden, even unexpected to Levine, a phone rang out. Levine looked at the number that had called, and ordered: »Mister Road Runner is leaving us now. No more waiting, I´ve got business. Out with him.« He stood up and answered the call. »Yes, it´s me.«

Meanwhile, the big bodyguard named Gary opened up the locked door and a second bodyguard grabbed Jane´s left wrist, he tried to force him to stand up.

There happened so much in the next few moments that it was nearly indescribable.

Levine said on the phone: »He had enough time now. Blow the car up.«

Jane cursed, and it was very unusual that he ever cursed… that was maybe the one thing that really shocked Van Pelt. She could cope with every dangerous situation, and was able to react fast, but Jane _cursing_? No… there was something, that even he had not expected. But there was no time to think about it. Not now.

Patrick spilled the hot tea on the neck of the bodyguard who held his wrist. The big man screamed out loud and let him go. »Grace, run!«

She jumped to her feet and had her gun ready in an instant, pointed at the shock stricken bodyguard Gary next to the door and waited until Jane passed by, then she ran out and jammed the VIP-Room door back into the lock. They rushed downstairs, Jane first, but he let her pass in the alley. She shot at the lock of the fire door three times and then she kicked against it. It opened with a cracking noise, and they both stumbled out into an empty, small side-street. It was a long way to the main road. This was bad, very bad.

»Come on!« Grace yelled back to Jane, who was searching something in his suit pockets. »Jane, come on! Move!« Van Pelt turned round, waved, and then finally he started again at a faster pace. They had to get to the main road and into a cab, before Levine´s men were after them. »What's up, what happened?« She was close to grab him at the shoulders and shake him. All the past hours, all the time he had not been so close to a complete shut-down, what was it now? She stayed close at his side and stuffed him in the taxi; he was still trying to get someone in the line.

Finally he seemed to be successful, and shouted into the phone: »Lisbon, Lisbon it´s me, do you hear me?«

»Yeah, what´s it… the line is very bad right now, would you pl…? Who's there?«

»Get out of that car, Lisbon, get out of that car!«

»I didn´t get that. Repeat?«

»Lisbon, out of that car, immediately! Please, Lisbon!«

»I… problem…« Lisbon's answer was mixed up with a lot of indistinct background noise. »What is…« then there was only a sharp hiss, and the next moment the line was dead, only a fast beeping tone was left. Jane closed his phone and the noise stopped.

He was pale and shook his head. And that second Grace realized, what happened. It could all be explained in only four words. _Blow the car up_.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Stranded 

This could not be true. This was indescribable, maybe close to be ridiculous. No, it was not ridiculous; it was _embarrassing_ and simply… _Crap! _Lisbon stood at the outer rim of the gasoline station, just a few meters ere the slip road melted back into the highway. She was so close to home, only one hour outside Sacramento, and now this. Still breathing heavily after her sudden sprint, she looked at the red back-lights of the Dodge Pickup, which move off at high speed. _Shit, no!_ This could not be. She laughed desperately and shook her head. It all happened so fast, but even the parts of seconds that she needed to think about it seemed to her like ages. It was, as if everything around was decelerated to super slow motion.

She´d committed the simplest fault that one could do… or perhaps not, perhaps Thorpe had been only acting in complete short-circuit. No, he _must_ have done it out of a simple, unpredictable panic reaction. If he´d been only a little bit more serious or anything like that, she´d be dead or at least gravely wounded by now. The right side of her forehead ached, yes, but the pain wasn´t nearly as heavy as her self-reproach.

They had stopped here because all two of them needed a bathroom, and everything seemed to be ok while she was in the ladies room. She´d locked him up at the entrance of the bathroom, after that they went to the men´s. She could not exactly remember how, maybe the hit on her head had caused a temporarily memory loss, but he must have used the butt of the pump-gun to knock her down, surely it was not his fist; the material was too hard and too cold. If he´d been really serious he would have shot the last bulled on her, but instead of that he ran, ran to the car, and off he was.

»Damned!« Lisbon cursed and touched the hurting spot on her forehead. It was not bleeding, but painful enough to bring some unwelcome tears in her eyes. The car was gone, so was her captive, and she´d been left behind, with an aching head. There she stood now, only about one hour out of Sacramento, left without a car.

That moment her phone rang out, the same time the battery-low-alarm squealed two times. She had talked to Cho and Rigsby for a longer time while they were still driving; they had discussed a plan and what they had to do as soon as Lisbon would arrive with her captive. And now? The battery level was at a critical low again. How should she reload it without the charging unit that still was in the car? In addition to the low battery there seemed to be some disturbance in the line; she never found out who called her. She had not had the time to save any numbers, so the phone only listed an unknown caller. Silly old prepaid phone… It was a male voice yes, so it couldn´t be Van Pelt, but who else? Maybe it was a wrong dial, whatever. The caller seemed to be upset, that was for sure, but who was it and what did he want?

»Lis…n it´s me, do you… me?«

_Lis _and_ N? _This could be her name, so at least the call was addressed to her. She tried to speak clearly: »Yeah, what´s it? The line is very bad right now, would you please say it again? Who's there?«

»Get … car, Lisbn … that … ar!« The battery level was decreasing fast, in addition to the miserable connection.

»I didn´t get that. Repeat it. Is this you, Cho?«

»Isbon, ou … immediat…! Please, Ls…on!«

»I have a big problem here! And battery empty!« she tried to hurry up. But then another happening distracted her completely. Thorpe had turned round and was heading off the other direction now, back to the south, but… »What the heck is this…«

Not far away, but distanced enough not to harm anybody at the gasoline station, a big, orange-and-white burst of light shot into the nightly sky, only parts of a second later the deep, rolling sound of a big detonation could be heard. The shockwave could not reach her, and it was mere luck that there was no one else next to that explosion. Parts of the car crashed down everywhere at the street, one or two hit the metallic roof of the gas station with loud noises.

The car had perished into a wall of flames. This was like a nightmare.

Lisbon ran a few yards back under the roof, and yelled to another man, a trucker, who was in shock staring the fire: »Get the firefighters, fast! My battery is empty. I can´t phone! Hurry up!« She already knew that the man inside the Dodge Pickup had no chance to survive that detonation, but she had to try.

The trucker nodded and took out his own cell-phone. There were not many people at the gas station now, only two or three other cars and one truck, but the owner, whose name tag said "Garber" came running out of his station house, carrying a fire extinguisher. It seemed to be ridiculously small against the big burning fire. »What happened!« he asked from far distance. »Was it a car-crash? How many cars involved?«

Lisbon tried to be fast: »Single car accident, maybe an electronic problem, it burst into flames... Help me. Both of you.« She started to run towards the explosion site.

The gas station owner and the trucker followed her closely, but watched from some kind of distance while she was trying to fight the flames with the fire extinguisher. Of course that did not work very well and there was no hope for the man who had taken the car. He was already dead, and the fire was too hot to get any closer. Even the fire extinguisher itself got hotter and hotter every second, and at least she had to drop it, because the heat burnt her hands. She went a couple of steps backwards, coughing and sweating cause of the immense heat. There had not been much gas left in the car, but it was still enough to keep the fire burning like mad.

The first wagon of the firefighters arrived seven minutes later; they had to come out of the next village, the wreck was still high in flames. Lisbon had started a retreat, her head was aching and she swayed, but nevertheless she knew one thing. If the officials would see her, they´d recognize her for sure. She was only one hour out of Sacramento now and everyone would know her. She was not sure what was happening in the CBI right now, but if she reappeared too early, the wire-pullers behind this whole story might get away unidentified; and then they would be even more dangerous than ever.

A few seconds before the firefighter-car reached the accident; she handed the nearly empty fire extinguisher back to the owner of the gas station and went back to the ladies restroom. Holding her hands under the cold water she saw that she was not seriously burnt, the water helped a lot and after a while she started to clean her face from the traces of ashes and smoke. She did not look outside, but the ghastly fire light that shone through the small window in the room went out really fast now. They had the fire out before she was ready to leave the bathroom again.

To the firefighters, the real hero was the owner of the station, because he had the fire extinguisher ready at hand, and the man did not mention Lisbon – because he was really proud of himself. _He´ll be a local hero, how fantastic_! He never thought back to the real situation, where he and the trucker were standing a good distance away and only watched. No, _he_ was the man of the hour; _he_ had tried to save the lives of the passengers. The second important person was the truck driver who had called Nine-one-one. No one noticed that the car had changed the direction in a very suspicious manner only a few parts of seconds ere it blew up, no one asked questions about the story where the car came from.

They all thought that it had been a bad accident, but nevertheless the police of the nearest village had to make a report, and some accident site experts had to look at the place. Everything had to remain as it was until the experts had taken photos and written the papers. The coroner had to come to search for the remaining of the drivers and at least they needed a big truck to transport the wreck away.

Only fifteen minutes after the explosion, while the car was still burning, a local TV-station´s reporter team was at the accident site. They must have been listening to the police radio or something – to Lisbon they were like vultures that were constantly circling round to get the next carrion.

Teresa watched the live-report on the TV screen in the gasoline station, instead of being outside. She pressed a bunch of wet napkins on the bump that was slowly growing on her head, while she sat in cover at the floor behind the cashier´s desk. Right now the blonde, female reporter was interviewing the owner of the gasoline station, and he explained in nice and eager words how fast his reactions had been, as soon as he had seen this accident. He was a hero, a real super hero!

»I lost no second. See, that explosion is not far away from my station building, and I saw that immense flash, then all the windows rattled like mad, and I says, yes, I says, look, there´s happened a very bad thing, and out I ran, trying to help, but the fire was burning that fiercely, I had no chance. You see, I burnt my left hand, I risked my life. Poor persons in there, I think I recall that a man and a woman arrived with that car at my station and then drove away, but they did not take any fuel, they only went to the restrooms…«

The reporter asked: »You have seen two people? This is a new aspect to that very bad, and tragic accident, maybe they were a young married couple on their way home, or even a family, just imagine… they were driving home from the shopping mall, in the trunk the accessories for their baby, that now is an orphan…«

Teresa rolled her eyes. What would reporters do, if there were no tragic stories to reveal? She knew the skills and nerve-racking behavior of reporters. Forget them.

Much more important was, what she could do now. She was so hungry, that her stomach hurt, but she had no money left to buy anything. Her head felt like as if some hammer was constantly hitting a big church bell, and somewhere deep inside she was so tired that she could hardly tell.

But the most important thing was, that the cell-phone´s battery was gone completely now, so she could not call anyone – unless the shop owner would return and lend her some coins, or let her make a call from his private phone that was locked into the cupboard next to the cashiers desk. It was a strange situation. And just now! She had been talking to her team before that all happened, and they had explained the plan. It was a good plan, really, and all she wished to do now was to continue their discussion. But no way…

She sat there, alone, and everyone else was watching the accident outside. It was quiet and she had time to think it over. She was almost sure that this car explosion had not been an accident. No car blows up that easy, and with such a destructive power.

Teresa tried to recall every word she´d heard from her captive during their drive. He had told her much; maybe he had started to fall into some kind of Stockholm-Syndrome. There was no, not even the faintest sign that he´ll try to escape. Thorpe did not look like someone who was able to conceal his real intentions that perfect. She would have noticed that he was up to trick her. And again she cursed to herself; she was in charge, it was her duty to keep him safe. No, it was more. She gave him her word, that she´ll keep him safe, although she would bring him to court. He was dead now, and that was very far from keeping someone safe. She broke her promise.

But what had he done wrong? Why had he to die? Maybe he was in too deep, maybe he´d seen too much, like the postman. He never told her, where the cars that he used, came from, but he seemed to be very sure that the police would never notice or stop them. If they were reported stolen, it would have been much too insecure – especially if a car was as new and expensive as the Dodge Ram. If he really wanted to go to Mexico with that car, they´d maybe checked at the border, and it would have been no good if they spotted him in a stolen vehicle, and arrested him.

If the clients of Thorpe offered him this car to flee or as a part of his pay-off, it was obvious why this explosion destroyed the car. They planned to get rid of him from the beginning, and never had the slightest intention to let him survive. If everything had worked out as they thought it would… this car bomb would have exploded somewhere in Mexico and no one had cared that a man was dead, maybe the accident had been unnoticed.

Lisbon had to admit, that there was a real good plan behind all this. And what about Mister Thompson, the one man, who could bring that disgusting Lazar Levine and his fellows down? She hated it, not to be up to date. Usually she was in the middle of the investigation, and now she was kind of… _out of order_.

»Where have you two been, by all means?« Donnaly was furious. »We´re in big trouble here, and… oh, forget it, I´ve to go immediately.« he cried out: »Dryer! Is the car ready? Have you told them that I need a chopper as soon as possible? Call again, tell them to bring infrared equipment! Call them so often that they think it´s dooms day, if you like. Get them out of their beds, and tell them to surround that whole ghost-town-thing. Not even a mouse is allowed to escape.«

Van Pelt tried to stop him, but he went on without any explanation.

Everyone seemed to be excited, and everywhere round there were people preparing to leave the office. Policemen from outside were here too, to coordinate the siege of the ghost town. Some men of a special S.W.A.T – unit were preparing their equipment.

Rigsby came running, and explained the ongoing things: »Ten minutes ago we got another call. They said we can come and collect Lisbon´s body at the ghost town of "Bloody Gulch" in the Mojave. The caller was very angry and told Donnaly that the money was not there yet.« he smiled. »Well, I know that this is a fake, but at least one of us has to go with them, to… um… hold up the play. I´ll do that. Cho knows Price a little better than me, he´s probably able to break up his password. Ah, and, Lisbon called about one hour ago, only a few minutes after you were out. We´ve made a plan: We try to replace the file content of the Lazar-Levine-case and the whereabouts of Mister Thompson, to get them in a trap. We need much more fake file pages, but… ask Cho, ok? He´ll know.«

»I´ll also try my best.« Van Pelt said, but her voice was weak.

Rigsby wrinkled his brow, he noticed that Patrick was way absent, maybe the Consultant had not heard any word he said in the last seconds: »Something gone bad outside? Jane? What´s up with you? Grace? Everything all right?«

She shook her head: »Nothing is ok, I fear. Lisbon called one hour ago? How long did you talk? Where was she?«

»Oh, I think she was driving, at least the background noise indicated that she was still in the car. Her captive was sleeping so she could talk a little bit more freely than before. But he woke up, and we had to stop. She said she´d be here in one hour and a half, or something. Whatever, we could figure out that plan properly. And what is not ok…«

That moment, Agent Carter, who simply wanted to turn off the TV missed the right button and changed the channel instead.

»Bah, forget it, Carter, let´s get going!« Donnaly bellowed, and jumped in the elevator. »Come on, come on! Hurry! All of you! We must go! Rigsby, move, if you want to!« He waved his hands. »All in here that are next to me, the others take the stairs, I won´t wait any second longer!«

But Wayne did not move, he stood at Grace´s side and tried to get out of her what she knew, but she was staring at the TV screen and sped up to get into the bureau, to see it closer. Jane followed her and Rigsby had no choice, he hurried after them.

_»…on route ninety-nine just a few miles outside Manteca.« _the female reporter said on TV. It was a young woman with blonde hair, and she stood in front of an accident site that was not really visible behind her because of the dark; but the flashlights of the fire-fighters and the police enlightened the burnt-down car ghostly.

The reporter turned to a man next to her: _»Mister Garber, you are the owner of the Manteca Hills Gasoline-station, and only a few yards off your place that big, deadly, devastating car accident had taken place. As I heard, two people are reported dead, but, what do you think about it? What if this accident had happened a few seconds earlier or at the other side of the street? The fire could have reached your petrol depot…«_

Jane said: »I´ve to go there… I´ll do whatever is necessary. Don´t wait for me.« Without any further explanations he turned around and was gone.

»Eh?« Rigsby was disorientated. »What's that got to do with our case?«

Van Pelt whispered: »I´ll explain…« but she got no chance to do so.

»Agent Rigsby!« Dryer, the last remaining member of Donnalys team, yelled. »They´re all waiting just for you downstairs, would you please _run, _or tell them that you will stay? Do something.«

Wayne looked at Grace and had the very strong feeling that he should not go awas now. It might be a fault and endanger the plan, but he answered: »Yeah, of course.« then he said to Van Pelt at a low voice: »I´ll be back in a minute, ok, then we talk. Fine?« He smiled and turned to Dryer: »I stay, but I go and tell it the others.« He also started a run.

Grace was left alone, and for a moment she was really motionless, and felt empty. The TV showed a bad, a very bad accident, no one could survive that. What could she tell Cho and Rigsby, when he was back upstairs? She pulled herself together and went into the bureau. They had to carry on with their plan and she had to inform herself now what she could do to help. So at first she let Kimball explain what he and Wayne had done while she was with Jane; then, as Rigsby was back again, she had to tell the men, what she and Jane had heard and seen at the "Lucky L" and what consequences this might have.

S. Agent Teresa Lisbon was some kind of furious, but she couldn´t help it. It was that kind of desperate furiousness that comes to people who want to do something and are damned to do nothing, because they simply can´t. Everyone who had been in the gas station was outside for more than one hour now, and she was still watching that constant TV-report. Only two or three times she had risked a look out of the window at the real happenings.

»This can´t be true!« she growled, but not for the first time. Not so long ago she had nearly been angry enough to go outside and grab someone, and ask him or her for telephone money or to lend her a cell-phone, but… there still were the cameras, and the police, who wrote down the data of everyone they saw for the report. Once they´d been inside the gasoline station too, to look around if there were other witnesses, but she´d remained hidden behind the casher's desk. She did not want to endanger the plan, especially not now, where she had no chance to inform herself about the newest circumstances in the bureau. Luckily enough she had a good team in Sacramento; Rigsby, Cho, Van Pelt and Jane. They could do proper work without her and she was sure, that everything was going on as they planned. So it was even more important for her to keep out of sight.

Once she had the thought to get into a cab or ask someone who was driving to Sacramento if she could come with them, but she had no chance. Since the police had arrived one hour ago, they had had closed the station and ordered every car to pass by, in order to prevent too many curious rubbernecks. Right now there was the accident-investigation team that took their last pictures and evidence, and of course the owner of the gas-station; Mister Garber; and all others that were here with their trucks or cars kept on looking. If she was right, they wouldn´t find anything that proved that this had been a car bomb, but even if they did, there would just be another riddle to solve.

It was some kind of disgusting, how curious people could be, and how eager they were to sell their information to the young, female reporter. Every now and then one of the witnesses remembered another, "really very important" detail. One of them, an older woman who had stopped here just because of her need for some coffee, cried, that she´s in shock and needs medical treatment, because one of the car parts that were falling down from the sky after the explosion had nearly hit her. »It slammed on the ground only by six feet distance!« and: »I am so horrified, I will go to my car-garage the first thing tomorrow morning, to check out if everything is ok with the electronics. I can´t stand it not to know if such a horrible thing can happen to me too.« _How crazy_.

After half an hour of constant TV-show Lisbon had tried to turn off the TV, but it was in a closed glass cupboard, like the phone of the owner. Unless she´d try to smash the whole thing to pieces, there was nothing to do. But right now the comments of the reporter had reached their next higher level. A big transporter had arrived who was now up to lift the car to its load area, to remove it from here.

The reporter nearly cried, while she explained: »Listen closely, can you hear how the metal frame of this car aches, as if it moans, as if it was in deep sorrow for the two people that died here, their remaining being only ashes and two hand full of shattered teeth…«

Lisbon had to gulp twice to get that uneasy feeling out of her throat. Yes, of course she was shocked that Thorpe died and it was a drama because he surely had a family and friends, and his live, and he was her protective … but to exploit an apparent accident-situation in that way was disgusting; they invented a tragic story and sold it to the public.

And it was exactly in this moment, when she decided to do something that she never thought that she´ll ever do. She stood up, tried to ignore the reawakening of her head pains, got herself a bag of cookies and opened it. »I´ll pay them some other day.« she reassured herself. She was half through his first macadamia-nut and chocolate-cookie, when she suddenly realized, that she must have been completely stupid for the last hour. It couldn´t be more than three or four miles to Manteca. If she had tried to walk by foot to this town, she could be already there by now. There were _loads_ of people who had telephones. If she´d only thought about that a little bit earlier!

She took another cookie and started to write an IOU to the gasoline station owner, but then she suddenly stopped: »What the…« she dropped the pen, while she was staring at the TV-screen. She jumped to her feet and tried to get outside without being seen by the police officers.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The plan must go on

Patrick drove as fast as possible without attracting the attention of a police patrol and did not care for any section control or speed traps. He was sure that he´d get a lot of tickets, but never mind, he had other things to think of. The whole time he felt as if an iron clamp was round his chest that made it somewhat difficult to breathe. Of course he was used to crime scenes now but this time the whole thing was different. He possibly had to identify a person he… um… knew very well. And what if the bodies had that much perished, so that one could only identify them by teeth or some tiny DNA-traces? _Oh, please, admit it_… his subconscious nagged him; _admit how much she means to you. _

The nearer he got to the accident site, the more uneasy he felt. Had it been a good idea to do this alone? _Yes of course_. There were so many thoughts in his head that he could not get a single one clear, so he decided to concentrate on breathing.

Finally he saw the flashing blue and red lights in the distance and focused on that. The big recovery vehicle was already there, and the firefighters were at work to get the remains of the car on the truck´s load area. He stopped his car although the policemen tried to wave him thru. Of course they complained a lot but he showed them his ID and went on.

»Where are the bodies?« he asked one paramedic, that was nearby.

The man answered: »There are no bodies… I mean, no bodies that… one could tell that they were bodies, you know? The coroner took the remaining with him, in two small plastic containers. He did not even know if it was one or two persons. We couldn´t do anything. Sorry, Sir.« he pointed to the floor, about seven feet in front of the accident site: »We think we found something like a piece of a finger over there, but the skin... ah, disgusting. A cheekbone was here.« he stopped approximately ten feet from the car. These were the biggest parts, really. The other things… only ashes and a fistful of teeth. We´ll need DNA-testing or the dentist´s records to get to know who´s been in that vehicle.«

Jane thanked him and went to one of the police officers: »Do you mind if I have a short look-around here?«

»No, of course not, but I can´t see the reason why they should send us the CBI. This was an accident. A _sad_ accident, but no murder. The experts said that it must have been some kind of electronic defect, and the fuel tank exploded.«

Patrick replied: »We´ll see.« He took a deep breath and started to walk. One could hardly recognize the type of the car – yes, it was a big Pickup, but there was nothing left than the bodywork. In this minute the crane of the truck came to life and started to lift the wreck. It screeched and the hind wheel-axle broke loose. Two firefighters hurried closer to fix it with a wire, and then they could carry on with loading.

That moment the reporter approached Patrick at a fast pace, close behind her the camera and another service man: »You seem to be a specialist. Please tell our watchers what you are trying find here.« she demanded, and without waiting for any permission, the camera-guy started to record.

»Out of my way.« Jane pushed them aside. »If you ask me again, I can´t guarantee for anything. I´ll put you that camera into a place where the sun is never shining. Got that?«

The reporter looked stunned for a moment, but then she tried to get the best out of this situation: »As everyone can see, the experts are working as concentrated as they can. They focus their skills, to solve the last riddles. We are all working together and will soon know who lost his life here…« She looked around and spotted another interesting spot: »And now we look over here, how careful they are handling the wreck…«

Patrick gazed round in silence. The explosion must have been devastating, but well planned. It did not rip the whole car to pieces, but the interior was completely burnt to ashes. One could hardly recognize the seats or the wheel. It was as if they had planned to turn the Pick-up into a big stove, where no one could escape. He coughed – it was really difficult to breathe. He felt as if some ice cold claw clenched his chest, trying to suffocate him. There was definitely no chance that one could survive that.

It was not easy to shock him, but the next second he startled.

Van Pelt, Rigsby and Cho seemed to be the only Agents that were still in the bureau. Agent Dryer, who was Donnalys contact on the phone, was sleeping. The young man had nearly worked his head off and was as tired as one could be.

Grace smiled at him over her shoulder and whispered: »He´s done a good job.«

Cho replied: »A good agent. I´m almost sorry that Donnalys team was on the wrong job the whole time.« Suddenly he interrupted his words. »Ah, there it is…«

Van Pelt went to his desk and looked at the long list of file numbers that was on his laptop. One of them was marked by a blue stripe. She sighed relieved. »Finally.«

Rigsby also stood up and went to them: »I got another two pages ready, hand written, this time.« he cleared his throat. »But it does not fight that strange feeling… When will Jane call? Or won´t he? Will he tell us what he found there?«

Grace looked at him and shook her head slowly: »I don´t know, he can´t be there yet, even if he drives like mad, he´s not there. Give him time… let´s carry on with our plan.«

Cho, who had been listening, clicked at the blue line and one single site opened. »It´s not downstairs in the storey room, but I did not expect that. The case is not closed yet. Price has got it in his filing cabinet in his bureau. So we have to get it from there. That´s one difficulty more.« He suddenly noticed another thing: »There is someone else in the internal network. Is one of your computers still in search mode?«

»Mine is off.« Grace said, but she went to her desk at a fast pace. »No, I turned it off, after I printed the additional fake pages for the "Mister Thompson-file". She hurried next to Dryer´s place, but his laptop was also switched off. To be sure she pressed one button, but nothing happened, the screen was still black. She shook her head. »No, it´s not working. I´ll check the others, maybe someone else forgot to turn it off.«

Rigsby also shook his head: »I´ve been working by hand on that form B-six-three-H-one/A file pages for the last half an hour and my laptop is off. I´ll help you to look around.«

Meanwhile, Cho tried to track down the location of the other computer. »It´s not an attack from outside, no one cracked out firewalls. It´s an internal account; someone who´s got a CBI password. And it is not going to any internet site or an online TV channel. Wait… Someone else is trying to get Prices data, but the password blocks him. I think they´ve started… we´ve got to hurry on if we want to replace the files and lure them into our trap.«

»Let me have a look at it.« Van Pelt said. Cho stood up and let her set down. She was fast at the computer, and her fingers flew over the keypad. »I´ll try to locate it, but… maybe the other user will notice, if I am on it too long. Would you please continue to check the other laptops in this room? Maybe it´s just an error. They left in a real hurry…« she gasped. »No, wait… I got it. It´s downstairs in the entrance area.«

She stopped the search immediately, then she told the men: »The security control station at the entrance. Someone down there tries to sneak into Prices filing, but he can´t, his account is limited. So they really have a helper in here, but it must be someone who is not really an Agent, maybe some other house staff member. Hm.« she wrinkled her brow. »It's the restricted access code for the laptop at the security station that anyone of the sec-guard can use in his stand-by time, when he wants to take a look on the internet. But it´s not supposed to work inside CBI. They can´t have a look at our files, not even where they are kept. The person must try to get the info directly.«

Cho stood up, hurried over to her desk, and said: »Ok, let´s keep on with our plan, but we have to speed up, really. I´ll go and change the file content, Grace, you distract our video-surveillance team. Maybe you can see the guy who uses the computer in the entrance area on one of the screens.«

Rigsby said: »I´ll keep an eye on Dryer here and… maybe Jane or Donnaly calls.«

»I´ve to be the distraction, just because the Wilbur and Fred like me…« Van Pelt said at low voice. »Please give me five minutes head-start, I´ll bring them some coffee. If one of them is on his round through the building, I´ll let you know. But I hope that they´re both in the surveillance chamber.« She went to the kitchen at fast pace, took a tablet and two cups of coffee, a little can of milk and sugar, then she hurried two floors down.

Fortunately both men were in the small room. Wilbur, the older one, seemed a little bit exhausted and said: »Well, that´s a nice surprise. I´m just back from my round, and there she is, our friendly angel, Grace, I say, waiting to give us coffee. That's great.«

Three walls of the room were filled with screens, showing the pictures of all cameras all the time. Beneath every screen there was a small recorder that was always active; if something strange happened one could recap the whole day. If one was not used to be surrounded by TV-screens, it was a little bit uneasy to sit here, but there was not much trouble now, the most cameras were in night mode and showed only the calm area that they were aimed too. Some doors, a few corridors, the entrance hall, the staircase, all in black and white, a little enlightened now because of the night mode.

One single screen was different; it stood on the table, nearest to the men of the monitor team, and seemed to be a little portable TV. At the moment, some talk show was visible, but Fred turned it off as Grace stepped in. It was more because they wanted to speak to her than because it was forbidden to watch anything else next to the video-screens.

She told them about the kidnapping of Lisbon, but not too much of everything, just some small talk. Fred and Wilbur were at the CBI since many years and of course they were concerned about Lisbon, they both thought that she was a nice person to meet and wished that she would be ok. Meanwhile Grace kept looking at the surveillance screens, but she moved her eyes so fast that the men hardly noticed that she was really more interested in the black-and-white monitors than in them.

On one screen she saw the main entrance hall, and there the security archway, the x-ray and the place where the guards could take a seat while no one was there to be checked. And exactly there, at this place, there sat one man looking into his laptop. The light of the screen reflected on his grim face, and he was clearly visible. His fingers seem to hit the keypad like mad. So either he was playing a very interesting game, or he tried his best to get the information he liked too. But he did not seem to be very happy; his forehead shimmered as if there were some sweat drops on it. He was not really successful in what he tried to do.

»What´s his name?« Van Pelt asked Wilbur, who had been talking about something completely different.

The old man looked at the monitor and said: »I know that he´s the new nightshift guy, but… forgive me, I am really bad in learning new names. I´ve seen him twice or thrice at the hot dog shop outside, when he got his evening meal, but … no. I am sorry. We´ve not been talking a lot, you know, he´s only permitted at the sec control down in the entrance hall, and does not have to patrol the building. Easy job, easy money. Can sit and watch what he wants, maybe even take a nap, as long as no one wants to get in the building.«

Fred remembered: »The chief of our section introduced him about three weeks ago. He is ok, is out of Sac PD, and replaces Victor while he has his broken leg. If they like him they´ll keep him; the chief said he did well at the training. Why are you asking?«

Van Pelt returned: »I just wondered. He seems to be very eager in doing something on his computer, doesn´t he? I know that you´re all allowed to take a look into the internet in your stand by time, but he seems to be a little more excited than one should be, checking his e-mails or listening to a music-video. I hope he is not watching some forbidden adult movies… It wouldn´t be so nice if they´d track one user down exactly here to the CBI building.« She laughed. »Yeah, I know, we´re all adults, but if some grumbler needs a reason to grumble… but would you please record him for about five minutes, just to… well, if it comes up to this he at least has the excuse that it was late at night and there was nobody else there.«

»Is ok.« Wilbur said and pressed the record button. »It´s maybe better that he has some kind of proof that he really was alone and not neglecting his duty.«

They all laughed, but suddenly the man downstairs seemed to get a phone call. Out of his gestures one could read, that he was upset about this call, and tried to get his head out of the tight spot by many pleads and calming words.

Fred joked: »Maybe his girlfriend asks him what he´s doing right at the best part of the little movie.« He laughed loud.

»Or it is his mum calling, wishing him a good night… while he is…ha-ha-ha!« Wilbur was amused. »Oh man I remember when I was young, and mum came in my room exactly when I was looking at my pin-up´s magazine.«

Fred smiled: »They had such magazines, when you were young? Really? Were they carved in stone, or what?« They both laughed like mad.

Van Pelt was happy that the two men were distracted, because Cho was clearly visible at another screen now. He had to cross the corridor that ran thru the fifth floor, which was of course watched by a camera. For privacy reasons they did not have cameras inside the bureaus, the toilets or the other rooms where people might relax for a short time, but every public place, the elevator, and the staircases, as well as every entrance and exit was monitored. The most dangerous time was, when Cho would break the door to Prices private office. As soon as he was in, it was a little bit better, but he had to be careful with his light all the time – there was a little bit additional light from the corridor lamps, but too less than one could read the file numbers. So he had a flashlight with him, and was still working on the door. She was highly tensed.

_Hurry up, get in this bureau before they see you_, Grace thought. For God´s sake he was fast, and closed the door of Prices bureau behind him before Fred decided to take a look-a-round on all monitors.

Cho sped up. No one else was on that floor at the moment; Wilbur was back in the surveillance room where Grace was for distraction, and if the time plan of the sec-guard was right, he or Fred would start another round in half an hour. It was the perfect time to get the file, and Cho hurried to the door of Prices bureau. While he was walking, he put on rubber gloves. He never forgot how to break a door lock using a simple wire, but for luck they had a special utensil to do this in the CBI; a housebreaking tool that he took out of the equipment room. But it was not the real time-killer to break the lock of the bureau-door and the one of the filing cabinet. The most time he spent searching for the right file map. There were no names on the file folder, only the number. Finally he found it, and hissed a small curse under his breath. Rigsby, Van Pelt and he had spent nearly two hours to write and print fake file sheets, and especially a false address for Mister Thomson, but in fact the file was much bigger than the twenty-seven fake sheets they had prepared, and there were more photos in it too. He had to decide fast now, and took the two files, the right and the faked one, with him, when he left. He knew that time was slipping away, but he had to add at least at four or five photos and more pages to the faked file, maybe also a few handwritten pages, so that it would look like more serious.

Rigsby helped him to write some additional report pages, while Kimball took the photo-part. In a hurry he used the scanner, chose some of the real evidence photos, sent them to his computer and tried to manipulate the photos on his laptop to nonsense content. They must not mean anything real, but the persons who wanted to know the content of the file should not see that at the first moment. While the photo-printer was working, he wrote three more paper sheets of confessions, locations sites and some other statements.

Rigsby whispered: »I hope that we are ready before Wilbur and Fred notice, that Grace stays with them longer than usual.« Then he stood up. »I´m going to have a look at her, maybe I can add a few themes that we can speak of… I´ll bring them potato chips. Does this get you the time you need?«

Cho replied with a short nod: »Yes, I am ready with printing; I only need five or six minutes to finish it all. Take all cell-phones with you, in case Jane calls.« He added one faked evidence photo showing a piece of cloth, one outside and one aerial photo of the house they pretended to keep Thompson safe in, and tried to collect all the freshly printed papers together as fast as he could. Panting he put the fake file into the real cover and hid the real file in his desk. »Let´s go.«

They both were at the door, but suddenly Agent Dryer asked: »What?« and looked at them. He was disoriented still very tired. He was sleepy and could nearly see out his eyes.

Rigsby turned around and let Cho pass out of the room behind his back. »Yes, Dryer?« he said. »You want something?«

The other Agent whispered »Did I sleep? Oh… The boss is going to kill me.« He grabbed another file concerning Lisbon and tried to concentrate on reading it, but as soon as he buried his eyes into the text he was nearly asleep again. He was really outworn.

»Wait a bit, I make you some fresh coffee.« Rigsby told him, went to the kitchen and turned on the coffee machine. At least this machine produced some noise while the water was starting to boil, that concealed the other noises in the floor.

Cho went back to Prices bureau, but this time the door was still open and he did not lose time. He hurried to the cupboard and put the file back on its place; then he closed the cupboard door and relocked it, as if nothing happened. Only one second after he left the office and had the door locked again, he ran into a person.

»What kept you so long!« Van Pelt hissed. »One or two times Fred nearly noticed that something strange was going on in Prices bureau, and Wilbur is preparing to start his next round trough the building. But… did it go well?«

»The file is in Prices cupboard, which is inside his locked bureau. All is, as it is meant to be.« Cho whispered and took off his gloves. »We are prepared.« They went back to the kitchen, so that it was a little bit less suspicious. Rigsby was still there and had the coffee in his hands. He knew without words that all had gone well, and took a deep, relieving breath.

»Do you also want coffee?« Wayne asked loud, so that Dryer might hear it, and that it was clear to the other agent that all of the others were in the kitchen.

Grace smiled and whispered: »Let us wait what will happen. Our suspect number one, the night-shift-security-guard received another phone call, just when I was leaving the video room, and he seemed not to be very happy about it, maybe the caller urged him to do something. I did not get the impression that this caller was a very patient person, and he or she wants him to act as soon as possible. And I don´t think that he´ll try downstairs at the file storage room. If it is really Levine, who wants this Thompson´s address, he must know that the file is not closed. No Agent puts his open file into the storage room.«

Kimball was her opinion: »Yes, I also think that he´ll try upstairs. But let´s wait inside the bureau, let´s pretend that we still wait for a call from the others.«

Rigsby said: »And that is not all wrong, isn´t it? Jane must be there by now. By the way, here you are.« he handed them their cell-phones back which were still put in mute-mode. »I can´t stand this waiting.«

»No one wants to wait for such a call.« Kimball said. »But it is the only thing that we can do. I think he won´t answer if we try to reach him now.«

They returned to the bureau and as soon as no one moved on the alley for two minutes, the lights were dimmed down to the night-level. It was a little bit darker now and it seemed as if sleep stretched his fingers out to everybody. It had been a long day and on the TV there was constantly the same program; that devastating car accident on route ninety-nine. Grace stared at the screen with her eyes wide open. For nearly half an hour she had not looked at the TV, but yet…

Rigsby said with a whisper: »Hey, I can see Jane here, I mean, _there_, being ruff to the reporter's team. That´s like usual, but… good gracious heavens, have you seen that look at his face? He´s… Oh my…, do you see the car?«

Grace said: »We should be there with him.«

Kimball was paralyzed: »That wreck is the car our boss was in?« He looked at his cell-phone. »She called me approximately forty-five minutes ere that happened, and we talked long about the plan, after that she spoke to Rigsby… she said that we must not stay out of Donnalys reach too long, making secret phone calls and that. So she decided to split the conversation between the two of us, but all together we got this plan worked out. The only thing I we could not tell her was the faked address that we set in the file, because we did not know a place at this time. I wanted to tell her when she calls next. But… she hasn´t. That´s not a good sign, is it?«

»I´m afraid it isn´t.«

Jane was out of the TV-picture now. Cho turned off the TV and a few minutes passed in absolute silence. It was so quiet that one could hear a needle fall down. And then a sudden, shrill noise broke loose. Both of them, Kimball and Grace, startled. But it was only the cell phone of the younger agent. She took it out of her pocket, and looked at the display.

»Jane, by all means! What are you doing here, you should help the others to get that fake file ready!« Lisbon stood next to him and her voice was reproachful, but the expression in his eyes was so strange and breath-taking that she stopped talking. _Why do you look at me that way, Jane, that's… so... confusing… _Her heart jumped in a pace that she could hardly believe. »Um, whatever…« she stuttered. »You are here.«

But he was back to his old self within the split of a second, and answered in a sweet mocking tone: »Jeez, Lisbon, you can be scary, you know that?« he cleared his throat. »I… I was just passing by and got nosy. But you look like as if you could need a taxi now.«

»I am sure that this is _not_ the real reason why you´re out here, but thank you… I in fact need some sort of transportation. I´ve got no money left and the phone-battery is empty. I would have called you but if I´d shown myself to police… you know, the whole plan would be in danger. That was a strange situation, really. What´s going on in Sacramento? Did you change the file already? Has anyone tried to get the information yet? Can you tell me something new on the murder of Mister Wilkins? Rigsby said something about Lazar Levine… I shivered as I heard this name. Creepy little cockroach, that Levine. I hope so much that we can nail him. Nothing must go wrong, we´ve got to figure out every detail in this …«

»Lisbon!« he said, to stop her. »Hey!«

At the first moment she felt a displeased that he interrupted her, but that emotion changed into real surprise, maybe because he was silent for the split of a second longer than usually. She asked: »What is it, Jane?«

»Please don´t mind, but I´ll touch you now.« he said.

»Why should I mind if…« she was disoriented, but a moment later she felt his fingertips on her forehead, so gentle that she could hardly tell. He run his fingers through her pony to move the hair aside for a moment, then he let the still slightly wet hair go again and looked straight in her eyes.

»Don´t you dare to hypnotize me, Jane.« she growled.

He shook his head: »I did not intend that, but you are hurt… Is this the only thing, or is there more? Do you want to see a doctor?«

She looked away: »That's not important now, we´ve got to go… please bring your car. We can talk while we´re driving. And would you please lend me two dollar and fifty? It´s for the cookies. I had to borrow them from the shop owner.«

Jane accepted her decision to change the topic and said: »But I want it back.« Then he gave her the money.

»Of course, as soon as I got my wallet, ok? Let´s get going.«

She hurried to get away before the camera-guy could turn his recording machine in her direction, and Jane followed her at a fast pace, after he had bid the police officers a farewell and said, that he did not think that it was an accident and that their investigators should look out for traces of explosives.

The CBI-Consultant stopped the car right in front of the shop´s exit, opened the door from inside and let her sit down in silence. Of course he still noticed that she was not all right, but if she would, she would tell him, he didn´t like to push her into something.

»How did you escape?« he asked instead, while he was accelerating the car.

Teresa refused to talk about that: »That's a long story about some hide and seek. To summarize it, it worked; I am here now. And I got this man, Thorpe, arrested. We were heading home, but in need for a short stopover and then he… I have to confess, he knocked me down, took the car and off he was. Only a moment later he was dead, although I promised to keep him safe. That´s all my fault.«

»Lisbon, it's not your guilt that he is dead.«

»Jane, stop, it is my responsibility, I could have been more cautious.«

He said: »But then you would have been in the car with him.«

She replied: »Maybe we would both have been still outside the vehicle when it happened. It was a remote ignition, by some call or a radio signal – the car did not blow up when he turned the key, but totally unexpected whilst he was driving. If we´d only been in the restrooms for one or two minutes longer, he´d be alive. I am sure about that.« Teresa sighed. »Now tell me what you found out, and why you were at the gas station. You couldn´t know that the car explosion…« she shook her head. »No. You knew that the car explosion had something to do with us. Right?«

He answered: »I did.«

»But how, Jane, how?«

»Ehm, let us say Van Pelt and I overheard a phone-call.«

At once Lisbon was suspicious: »Where?« she looked piercingly at him. »I hope you are not trying to tell me that you messed up with Lazar Levine, do you?«

»Um, if you don´t want to hear it, I not gonna say it.«

She took a deep breath and tried to be persuasive: »Jane, this man, Levine, is very dangerous. You are here with me, so you must have tricked him out in some way. But we´re still far from locking him away. And if Thompson dies, we might never come so far. You must not do such things, Jane. That's not like joking round, you know. That's dangerous.«

Jane replied: »Remember what Bosco said? He said I should look after you. And I will. Always.« he smiled. »Try to get some sleep, you must be very tired.«

»I don´t think that I can sleep now. I am too excited.« two or three seconds passed in silence, then she continued, much more like a whisper than real words: »It was you who called me, right? You thought that I was in that car. You were there, 'cause you feared it's me in that burnt wreck. I´m so sorry. I… did not understand until now.«

»That was a bad coincidence, that´s all.« he said, his voice sounding a little bit too easy. »Never mind. At least we´re going home now. So I did not come in vain, did I?«

_Yeah, you say so. But I will never forget that look in your eyes. How could I?_ Lisbon leant back into the passenger seat and turned her head to the window. Within an instant she felt so sleepy that she hardly could keep her eyes open, but she could not rest for long, Jane took his telephone and dialed a number.

Now Grace answered the call: »What is it, Jane?« she asked, with a recognizable amount of fear in her voice. Shortly later she smiled. »He says that Lisbon is ok. And right now they´re fighting for the telephone – they´re arguing like ever. So she really is ok. Woah, the boss won! Hi, boss. But she´s got the speaker on, so that Jane can also listen, and I can hear him too.« She chuckled, Rigsby and Cho grinned too. Lisbon seemed to say something, because Grace suddenly was serious again: »Yeah, I´ll summarize.«

The men of the team could only hear one half of the whispered conversation, but they was ok with that, instead of being nosy they were happy that the boss called.

»Ok, so we were clear about that.« Van Pelt said. »We´d got to do something. We had the plan ready but Jane took me for a little walk-around first, to get some fresh air, cleans the head, he said, that …«

Teresa interrupted her: »Don´t try and kid me. I know that you´ve visited that Levine- guy. Van Pelt, how often did I tell you not to follow Jane into something stupid? You have to stop him instead of helping him doing something craz…, something like that. Okay?«

Jane´s voice was audible for an instant: »Oh, stop preaching, Lisbon…«

»Shut up, you.« she commanded the man next to her, but with her usual not too harsh tone. Then she returned to the phone call: »As far as I´m concerned, that matter´s through. Tell me now what else has happened since my last call. Rigsby and Cho prepared that false file… that thing´s ready, I think? But start at the beginning.«

Grace began: »Well. Rigs was up to go with the others to pretend that we´re still searching for you and for a moment we did not even have to play to look grim, because Jane witnessed that call only a few minutes earlier. He did not say a single word, although Donnaly yelled at him. That also wondered Rigsby, and he stayed. He´s here now, with us…«

»Traitor!« Patrick growled, but his undertone made the others, Grace and Teresa, smile. He added: »I was not stony; I just kept silent so that we´ll get rid of him as fast as possible. The sooner as he´s on his mission, the sooner he´s gone.«

Lisbon replied at a mocking tone: »You _never ever_ keep your big mouth shut, Jane. Don´t lie to me, and please stop to interrupt us constantly. We´ve got a case to solve here. Continue please, Van Pelt.«

»Cho and I were at the office, and we decided that we´ve got to do something, something that fits. We do want to nail all of them, not only the odd-job-men. So we continued to write the fake file for that Peter-Thompson-Lazar-Levine-thing and replaced it. The true file pages are safe – they´ll never know where. So if they look in Price´s file and if they take the address of Mister Thompson out of the new file they´re running into our trap house. The most important thing we need to do now is to be prepared to catch them.«

Lisbon asked: »And what tells you that they – whoever _they_ are, by the way – won´t send a paid accomplice to this address to do the job? We might get the guy who broke into the CBI and Prices office, but… is this "mysterious trap game" really efficient? By the way, you did call Price and ask him, before you took that file, did you?«

There was no answer at the other end of the line, Grace just cleared her throat.

»That means, one of you broke into Prices office?« Lisbon continued.

Jane said, in a very amused tone, something like: »Nah…«

Now Grace hurried to say: »We… we thought it might be better not to inform him. We surely will tell him, but who knows how he´d react and… and maybe this would have been a leak in the plan… Price would have asked more questions, it is his major case…«

Teresa sighed long and deep, and then she continued: »I understand. Let´s keep that back for the moment. In some way you are right. If it was my case and someone did call me late night if he can mess up my file, I´d be very suspicious. And… I must say I never exactly told Cho or Rigsby that they are _not_ allowed to do what´s necessary. At least, someone was in great danger and that sort of justifies a door breach. I´ll get that on the line with Price. Don´t worry at the moment, concentrate at the current ongoing. You are really convinced that they have a helper inside CBI? How could they? And why do you think that Levine will be with them when they try to kill Thompson? Wouldn´t it be much safer to let it do by someone else, like my kidnapping?«

»We suspect the new night-shift-guy from the entrance security…« Van Pelt said, but then she interrupted herself.

Cho was waving at her. Dryer was coming back to life he yawned and started to get to an upright seating position, but they had to talk to Lisbon and explain the plan. So Cho stood up, went to Van Pelt and took her phone quite casual while walking by, and continued his walk out of the door, to the kitchen.

Dryer asked: »What was that? Weren´t you phoning?«

»No, um…« Van Pelt said. »We´re playing a game, every round we switch, you see, it´s his turn now. I really hope he´s not losing it. We are on level nine already.« She smiled. »Next is you, Wayne.«

Cho, who had overheard the most part of the call, continued to talk without any missing link: »We currently check on Mister Miles Moore, who is this new nightshift security, but till now there is nothing that indicates any bad things about him. Was a street-patrol-officer at Sac PD before he came here, no records, no files.«

Jane interrupted: »Take a look at the district that he was patrolling. I guess that is the secret link between him and Levine.«

Cho said: »We´ll do that.«

Lisbon repeated: »I asked Van Pelt what makes you think, that we´ll get Levine nailed at the place where they believe that Thompson is?«

»Grace said that Jane thinks – I didn´t have enough time to speak to him myself – that this Lazar Levine is a very predictable character. Although she said that he was so strange in the cab that she could hardly get a word out of him.«

»And that tells us what?« Teresa asked. »Levine is a predictable character, yes…«

Jane answered: »I foresee, no, I prophesy, that Levine will be there himself, accompanied by his favorite killers, and his two pretty, intimate friends. Grace knows them. Maybe he´ll take some other person with him, maybe one who has to witness the happening to be scared enough to keep his mouth shot. The real point is: Lazar Levine is a sadistic, violence-loving person, and he´ll never allow someone else to kill a man who not only offended him, _no_… A man who could bring him _down_. I think that he wants to be there and fulfill the death sentence himself, after a little torture or another… let's call it… _game_.«

Cho said on the telephone: »I understand. Good plan, Jane. So we can get him red handed, and lock him and his comrades up for a while. Maybe one of them is going to talk too. The building we finally chose is at 1563 Barslow-Lane. A riverside view.«

Lisbon interfered: »Cho, stop! Stop and think it over. Yeah, I commit that this plan is good, very good. "Good job" to all of you, really. But they _are_ dangerous, even if they don´t know that we´re already after them. They killed the postman and the kidnapper on purpose, and without any regret. They´ll be well prepared and will have good armory. It won´t be easy to take them. I am sure that you´ve seen that yourself, but… see, we haven´t even got the whole own team together right now. Who´s trustworthy enough, so that we can tell him or her, what´s really going on, without taking the risk that it will come to public that we know the truth and we´re after Levine? We need help. We can´t get Levine and his buddies if we have not enough people to surround them. The chance to catch Levine had never been better, and if we lose it... he´ll be even more dangerous than he is now.«

Cho summarized: »So we are alone and too less to risk that catch. Hm.«

»Yeah, I am afraid that it is so.« Lisbon sighed.

Jane said: »If you´d let me, could try.«

»Could try what?« Teresa asked sharply.

»To catch them, of course.« he answered at a light voice.

Lisbon turned back to the phone call: »Cho, I´ve a problem here. I´ll call you later. Jane is getting _Jane-ish_ again. Keep your eyes open, as soon as someone really tries to get the information on Thompson, send an SMS, please.«


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: How to catch a cockroach 

Lisbon handed back the cell phone to it´s owner and he put it in his pocket, still smiling. »What?« she demanded. »I´d like to hear your – let´s call it: "idea".«

»Aye, Ma´am.« he replied. »My _idea_ is as simple as it could be. Just fight fire with fire, or an eye for an eye.«

»I don´t want to listen to poems. We have serious problems here.«

»Wait, Lisbon, wait… I sense a certain lack of calmness in you, just relax. You had a long day, and so do I.« he loved it to be a little pain-in-the-neck.

»Jane…« she growled, but then she took a deep breath and said: »Ok, I am relaxed. I´ll listen.« She leaned back to the seat. »Please… tell me your plan.«

He answered: »I know that you are not really relaxed, but fair enough: We have to do something that you would call "rule breaking". But let us start at the middle of the beginning. I mean, not at the real point of beginning, but at the point when we go and grab some sleeping gas grenades out of the special equipment room.«

»Anesthetic gas grenades.« she repeated, and could not believe it at first. »But if someone notices that the grenades are missing without permission it will cause an internal alarm. They´ll have to investigate this… wait. You _want_ that they are going on alert state.«

»The alarm is a part in the plan, yes. But first of all I thought of a little bit of revenge. They took you down using a gas grenade, why shouldn't we pay them back the same way? It´s the easiest way to stop them all at once; and besides, it fits a cockroach like Levine. A little gas here, a little gas there – it´s like if you call the pest controller. We are not enough to surround the house, but enough people to take care of the exits of that building, this is for sure. As long as I can lure them deep enough into the house, where the gas grenade can work properly, they´ll be sleeping or at least feel very dizzy within seconds. The only thing you´ll have to do is get me out there before the real trouble starts. I do not like it when bullets are flying through the air.« He smiled. »The rest lies with Price and his team.«

»Price? Really?« Lisbon asked.

»Yeah, let´s get him involved in his own case. That´s better than trying to explain all that mess at once. We´ll have to, later, but not now. We sell him a good story so that he can´t do nothing except drawing all forces to the house, where we nailed Levine.«

Lisbon smiled: »Sounds great, but what about the time frame? What if they do not show up at the right moment?«

»That´ll be the problem of your team – we, you and I, I mean, can´t do anything. We´ve got to stay away from the Headquarter and we´ve got to start to prepare the house. Means exactly: They write a letter – a really good letter, that Price will find in this fake file, they already produced. They put this letter in the file as soon as the henchman at the CBI told Mister Levine the address. In this letter they tell him what´s this all about, and for the file is Top secret I am one hundred percent sure that Price will be the first and maybe the only one who´ll read this letter. After he knows it all, he´ll for sure come to this wrong address with his team and a bunch of cars, where we can deliver Levine to them. So we don´t have to care about the transportation of those villains.«

She said: »I understand, good idea, but why a letter and not call him? Why does he… oh, I think I get it. It would be very suspicious if we call him now, late at night, and tell him the plan. Maybe that he acts too fast and shows up too early. So… you leave the letter that you get more time, time until the morning, until he comes back to work. Yes?«

»Yes, exactly.« Patrick replied. »Or at least it gives us a couple of hours head-start. But there is more… we take two gas grenades, and leave everything in the equipment room very obvious. There, next to the empty place of the missing grenades, we´ll lose a photo or a page out of Prices "Levine-Thompson-case-thing". The first Agent who sees that the grenades are missing; that there was a theft at the CBI, will also see that sheet of paper. Everyone will wonder why it´s there, and sooner they must assume, that the disappearance of the two gas grenades has something to do with Price´s the Thompson file. So we get the attention of Price, and he will of course look inside his cupboard and find out that the file was exchanged, and he will see our letter. Donnaly, on the contrary, must still be working on your kidnapping like mad, to distract the concentration of the media and so on. We call him as soon as all is over.«

Lisbon nodded: »Sounds a little bit confuse, but as soon as you start to think about it, it's a logical hand-to-hand sequence of events. The loss of two gas grenades will not look as if it has something to do with my abduction, but strange enough to Price, who keeps his witness protective program top secret. But we have to be careful. It will still be our charge to get them down, I think the cavalry won´t be there so fast. They will be there to get them out of the house and transport them to prison, but the main work lies with us.«

Jane was her opinion: »I know.« He yawned, then he continued: »Yeah, therefore we have to be prepared. As soon as the odd-job-man has the address, and informed his bribe-payer about it, Rigsby, Cho and Van Pelt can arrest him on good purpose and either take him with them to the house to keep him quiet, or stuff him into our arrest-room in the cellar. But if we leave him at CBI, we must inform another Agent to keep an eye on him… Dryer maybe, because even Dryer can´t deny that a security staff member who has only access to the ground floor is not allowed to be upstairs, trying to breach a door of an Agent. If Dryer knows what happened, that someone was caught in front of Price´s door – he will also tell Price that there must be something really important going on. And that other evidence shows up in the equipment room, every little puzzle-piece will slowly find its right place, and Price will be really happy to hear the truth, so happy that he won´t never mention the fact, that Cho broke into his office.« he sighed.

Then he said: »I wonder what the house looks like, that they had chosen for our little game. I hope that there is some kind of cellar.«

»You don´t even know which house we are dealing with and you´re talking about the plan how many exits we´d have to watch and how far you can lure them into the building? What if it is completely different from everything that you expect?«

Jane said: »We´ve to find it out. We check the place out and wait for news there.«

Teresa nodded: »I´ll tell the others, ok? And after that you will explain me how you planned to lure Levine and all his buddies deep enough into the house, without being killed.«

»I promise, they won´t kill me. My assessment of Levine´s character is right.«

Lisbon took one deep breath and stretched her hand out. »Phone please?«

»Of course.«

Teresa dialed, waited a few beeps, then she said: »Rigsby, it's me. Have you got time to listen? Please answer only if no one can overhear you.«

»No.« he said. »Are you sure that you have got the right number?« the line was not bad, but the noise in the background indicated, that he was still in the office, Van Pelt was speaking with another man, and this was not Cho; it must be Dryer. »Ok, Rigs, I talk, you only listen. As soon as you can, leave the room.«

»Hm-hm.« Rigsby answered,

Lisbon asked Jane, while she pushed the speaker button: »When did Donnaly leave for the Mojave? I lost counting.«

»Nearly two hours ago.« Jane said. »But they´re on Interstate Five, I think. Otherwise I should have seen them. I left only a minute or so later than they did. They must arrive down in approx two more hours, if they drive like mad. And as soon as they start searching for your corpse, the media will be very, very interested in that. They have to hurry up as soon as they start the search. This ghost town "Bloody gulch" cannot be big, and even if Levine still thinks that you are buried there somewhere, he can count… a full search team that consists of two dozen or even more people can´t be working too long until they find a fresh grave. I am convinced that they want to kill Thompson this night, before the morning.«

Teresa was sure that Rigsby could understand their conversation; and as a kind of proof he said: »A narrow time frame for them. I´m out of the bureau, so we can speak.«

Lisbon smiled: »Rigs, listen...« she started to explain the plan to him.

Wayne was impressed: »Good idea, very good idea, but the only difficulty is Dryer. Donnaly called a few minutes ago, therefore we were all in the office. It wasn´t a very pleasant call, we think, and Dryer switched off the speaker after a couple of words. We did not know at first what this call was about, we only saw that Dryer´s face went white and blank. It must be something serious, and yes, it was. Grace persuaded Dryer after the call, to tell us what Donnaly told him. Dryer says that someone called Donnaly at his mobile. This person said that you are dead and that we are too late. Donnaly is furious, and told his people to speed up. And that Dryer has to be on the phone line all the time. And that we are definitely out and should go home.«

Jane said: »It´s not too bad that Donnaly ordered you three to go. So you can disappear without being suspicious.«

Lisbon added: »Take the spy with you then, you can´t leave him in the arrest cell without supervision. Now we can only hope that this person really tries to get the information, and that we did not do all that in vain. But inform the others and prepare the letter for Price, whatever happens.«

Patrick advised: »I don´t think that the little odd-job-man can retreat. Levine´s got something in his hands to blackmail him. Keep an eye on the bureau, he has to act fast now. See you at the house.«

»Ok, Rigsby, I can count on you. Bring us safety vests and good armory. I got no gun.«

»I will, boss.«

Only one moment after the call Teresa requested: »And now you, Jane.«

»I can´t tell you now, really. We´ve got to look at the house first. But I admit that I really hope that it is a good house – that could be the only thing that endangers the plan.«

Lisbon told him: »As I know, all the apartments or houses that we use in our witness-protective-program are furnished and equipped with the necessary. But we will see.«

It was getting late, almost midnight. Finally Jane stopped the car at a corner, half a block away from the address. They had been silent the last minutes, and Lisbon was really sleepy now. It was an unpleasant feeling, that she now had to get out of the car and walk again, her whole body only wanted to rest. But she had to and got out of the car. It was better after a few steps in the cool night air, but her feet, especially her right one, hurt with every step. To be honest, she felt a little bit messed up, her headache was not gone, the shoulder burnt, and in addition to that some scratches and cuts on her legs maybe had a small inflammation – she´d never had the time or the means to clean them properly.

»Hmm…« Jane said next to her. She knew that he´d kept a close eye on her, and that he was worried because she couldn´t move properly, but he was restrained enough not to ask her. Instead of that he said: »A nice little house, and a good surrounding area to live in. Seems to be peaceful and quiet. Perfect for the witness protection program. Let´s go in, and have a look-a-round.«

Of course he did not need a key to get inside, but they looked at the door first. It did not seem to be cabled, so that they would set an alarm of, if they opened it.

»Nice.« Lisbon had to admit, as soon as they were inside. It was a medium sized one-family-house, apparently having one ground floor, a first floor and a roof room, maybe a cellar to. It really was completely equipped; everything looked like as if the owners had left just for a holiday – except the plastic foals that covered every piece of furniture from dust.

»Looks like if it is all times ready, but had not been used for a while.« Jane said. » We cannot leave it like this. Levine must think that someone is living here.«

Teresa said: »Ok, let´s get them off, while we do, we can check out every room.«

They started to work, and were fast – within minutes they got the ground floor ready. Lisbon switched the TV and threw a few cushions and a knitted blanket, on the sofa. Jane put a glass of water on the couch table, and smiled.

»I always wanted to have a trap-house.« he said. »I´m starting to feel like Kevin. That's fun…«

Lisbon asked: »Kevin?«

»Yes, Kevin… Alone at home. The whole house, a big trap, just to trick the bad guys.«

Now Teresa smiled too, and said: »Yeah, but with one difference. The villains we´re dealing with are not two dumb burglars. Let´s look upstairs.«

There were two rooms that could be used as private chambers for children or guests, each one having one bed and furniture inside; also the things that you´d really need, like a blanket, cushions, one spare bed linen, carpets, cupboards, and the technical equipment, that one would perhaps need, a small TV, a radio and an MP3-docking station.

»We´ll leave that as it is.« Lisbon decided. »Thompson is only one man, he won´t use these rooms. Hurry up.«

Together they went to the biggest room upstairs, the bedroom. The walls were colored in a faint yellow, the frames of the door and the windows white, also the most part of the furniture had a white color. There was a huge bed inside, and everything was also covered with plastic foal. »Oh, man, I am tired…« Jane yawned and sat down at the edge of the bed. »What a nice room, don´t you think?«

»Yeah, really nice.« Lisbon replied and put a strong grip on the edge of the plastic cover. »But that´s not important now. Get up, I can´t remove that plastic thing if you sit on it. Hush.« She didn´t really expect that he would get up right at this moment, but he did, and she lost her balance for an instant and hit the lamp next to the bed with her arm.

She groaned unwillingly, tried to conceal it and kept on working, but Jane was at her side in an instant, and took the plastic out of her hands.

He looked concerned: »I know that you don´t like me to ask, but… I kept my mouth long enough. What is it? Did he hurt you?«

»Nothing really remarkable, believe me. Only stray ammunition, some scratches that got dirty. It is ok, we have no time to bother with that.« She started to work again.

»No, it´s not all right.« Jane replied. »The bathroom here should be ready to use… do you mind if you go there for a moment? In the meantime I try to mess up the kitchen, maybe get us something to eat. See you downstairs then.«

Teresa smiled, then she answered: »As soon as I am ready to prepare this room, I´ll go to the bath, and have a look at it, ok?«

»It´s your decision, Lisbon. I can´t rip off your clothes and hunt you to the bathroom.«

»I´d shoot you if you´d try.«

»You ain´t got no gu-h-un.« he remembered her in a lovable mocking tone.

He turned round and went downstairs. The kitchen was in a good state, as soon as he opened the cupboards he saw that a certain amount of conserved or long lasting food was there; cans, and glasses, also noodles, and some crackers, milk powder, coffee, and so on. Of course there was nothing fresh in the fridge, only bottled water, soft drinks, five little glass bottles of mixed alcoholics like whiskey, gin and vodka, and a small bottle of vine. It was like looking into a mini-bar of a motel room. But at least it was something. Nothing makes a home more a home than the smell of food, and so he started to cook.

While he was waiting for the water to boil, he looked around in the ground floor again. The house had one front and one back exit, which led into a small garden that overlooked the river. In every room there were windows that one could use as an emergency exit, or maybe shoot the glass to get some fresh air - so the gas would not work properly here, even if they´d nail up the windows and isolate them with the plastic foal. It was too much risk. Also the upstairs rooms were not really useful for that plan. Of course they could close the shutters too, but this might not be enough, or even look suspicious.

Then he passed the small wooden door next to the flight of stairs that led to the upper floor. He opened it and looked into darkness. The cellar! He smiled. Yes, this would be a good place for Levine and his gang. He switched on the light, returned to the kitchen for a moment and put salt and noodles into the boiling water. Then he went downstairs to the cellar. It was not only one single room; there was an open place for storage at the right side of the stairs, but this was empty except of a line of chopped wood at one wall. On the other side of the stairs the wall continued a few feet, and a fire-safe, metal door was in it.

»Heating room.« was written on that door, and it opened easily. He switched on the light. The whole small room was a fire safe construction, and a big oven stood in the middle of it. There were no windows and a key hung at the inside door handle.

Something like an idea began to set itself together inside Patrick´s mind, while he turned round and hurried upstairs to get his meal, Macaroni and tomato-and-herbs sauce, ready.

»It´s not much, Lisbon, but it is food. Where are you?« he said, while was preparing the plates and the cutlery on the kitchen table.

She did not answer, but he could hear that the water was still turned on. So he went back upstairs and found her still in the bathroom. She tried to get two lead-pellets out of her skin with a pair of tweezers. He knocked the door, but she still could not hear him. At last he said at a very loud voice: »Lisbon!«

She startled and turned round. »What is it?« She put the tweezers on the mirror table and realized at that moment that she was only wearing a bath towel. But he did not seem to care a lot – she could also wear a dress made of old rugs or banana-shells. »Anything important? Have the others arrived?«

»No. We are still alone. I´ll help you there.« He pointed at her arm.

»It´s ok, they´re not deeper in than any common splint. It´ll heal as soon as they´re out, for sure. The others are only scratches.«

Jane said: »I can see it, but the dinner´s ready, and I want to eat as long it is still hot. I´ll have them out in a sec, you put a plaster on it, and get dressed… I´ll tell you the idea I had while we eat. Oh, I can´t even tell you how hungry I am.« while he was still chit-chatting, he sat down next to her and took the tweezers. Only one moment later he got the first pellet out, then the second one. »Done. Looks ok.«

»Nasty little things, those lead pellets.« she said. »It´s much better now, thank you.«

»See you downstairs.«

She did not have other clothes than those she´d been wearing all day, so she put them on again, but unwillingly. They were still quite dusty, and the jacket of Thorpe, that she still wore did not fit her, it was much too big, but complaining was useless.

Downstairs Jane was waiting at the kitchen table. »Ta-dah…« he said and presented a fine arrangement of two candles, a small bottle of vine, and a glass vase with three roses and one night lily. But the best of all was the smell of the hot meal. It had been really long since her last real food and she felt so hungry that she could die.

»Well done, Jane.« she said and sat down. »Now… let´s hear what you thought of, and then let me… because I´ve got some ideas too.« she started to eat.

Patrick took place too and explained: »As I know Levine, he will be really furious as soon as he realizes that he´d been tricked. When I was at his bar, he tried to threaten me with torture and pain, and I think this time he will fulfill his promise. So… he will search for a room where he can play his games, and no one hears it… what would be better than a cellar? This is the easiest way to get them into a room that has as less as possible windows, so that the gas is working properly. I don´t want to be shot if they have still enough air to seek revenge. I am a Consultant, not a bulletproof hero, you know.«

»Yes, ok, Jane, but… even if the head group around Levine goes down there to watch that game or how you´d like to call it… they will leave a bodyguard upstairs for sure. What if something goes wrong and they have you down there and we can´t do anything?«

»I trust you, nothing is going to go wrong. There is a separate room down there, a fire safe construction, maybe airtight, but at least as tight that we got more time ere we fall asleep than they in the outside room. The key is inside the fire room. They can´t shoot through walls, can they? You just have to get me in there somehow, lock the door and wait until it´s over. It can´t be long.«

Lisbon sighed: »Ok, let us look at that.«

One hour later Rigsby, Van Pelt and Cho arrived at the house. They were not alone, the security guard from the entrance, the main suspect, was with them, but he did not look like as if he complained much about his arrest.

Lisbon asked: »What´s with him?«

Cho explained: »We got him right outside Price´s bureau, after he sent a message to another cell-phone. Van Pelt tried to get out which number it was and got it so far, that it really was a phone next to or in the bar "Lucky L". Then suddenly the cell-phone started to vibrate without an incoming call, and luckily enough Rigsby was like… _swush_, ran to her desk, took that thing and threw it out of the window. It exploded while it was still in the air. Not a big thing of course, but if you have it in your clothes´ pocket it would be deadly.«

The security man said: »They wanted to kill me although they said, if I do what they want, they will let me go and I would never be bothered again.«

Rigsby explained: »After the detonation he was suddenly willing to make a deal. He will make a full report and a statement at court, only if he gets a place in a prison far away from Levine.«

Lisbon nodded: »Good. So we have another witness.« She turned to the odd-job-man: »You know, that we gonna find you, if you try to escape, and you can be happy if we find you first, and not Levine. We will seek a hiding place for you that is as safe as it can be right now, and you stay there until everything is over, understood?«

»I will.«

She continued: »Another question: Why me?«

»Why you?« the suspect asked. »Out of nothing particular, in fact. They asked me to remember a few names of CBI Agents, and preferred someone out of the team that is on this case – I mean, against Levine. I couldn´t really tell who is who and just told them those names that I could recall at first, and one of that was yours.«

Lisbon shook her head in disbelief: »Really? There was no other reason that they chose me than to have one Agent for distraction? What where the other names?«

»Ah, three or four… Nighly, Stants, Tullgren and some Willows or Watts… or something. Whatever.«

Jane summarized: »So they did not care whom they kidnapped, as long it was a CBI Agent. It did not bother them who´s going to be killed as long as they have distraction. How fascinating… Cold as one could be.«

For now they all went back inside, the cars were parked round the corner, and it was quiet and dark outside again. After they found a safe place for the captive and put him there, Lisbon´s team sat together to work out the final phase of the plan. They were ready to act within a couple of minutes, but hours passed by, ere something happened. It was early morning, three thirty, still a time that a normal person stays in bed, even one who had been out until midnight. Two cars slowly came up the road with their lights turned off, and the passengers and drivers got out. They did not hesitate, but went to the house door immediately. They knew what they wanted to, and nothing could stop them.

The men of Levine were in full armory. Van Pelt, who had her position at a place that overlooked the front door, remembered them as they left the car and stood in the light of the street lamp for a moment. They had no masks, but why should they, they wanted to kill the man and they wanted him to know who killed him.

She whispered in her phone: »They are here… seven. Everyone has a gun, silencer included, and I see a metallic baseball-bat, some kind of whip, two have knuckle-dusters, and two carry batons, they also seem to have some smaller device, maybe an electro-shocker.« She looked at every face: »Its Levine himself and his two friends of the bar, also the two bodyguards we already know, and then two men I don´t know, but they look like pros.«

They whispered to one another and one of the unknown men rushed forward to open the door – they also had a housebreaking tool. One after another they went into the house, as silent as shadows, the last one was the second of the professional killers, who had used the time and cut the telephone land-line.

Van Pelt crawled forward as soon as they were in the house. She could not help inside, but was there to keep the front exit under control. She looked inside the cars to be sure that there was no one left in there and checked the nearby corners, and front gardens, if someone else was watching the area, someone that would maybe warn Levine and his men, but they left nobody outside. At last she opened valves of the car´s tires and manipulated them so that the air could float out. Of course she was curious what was going on inside the house, but she must not leave her position – and as long as she could not hear shots, or unmistakable sounds of fighting, it should be ok.

»They are in and front door is save.« she said into her phone; now she was connected with Cho, who was the guard at the back door.

»Ok.« he replied. »I do not see any light in the cellar yet but I am ready to cut the cord… keep in touch with Rigsby, I´ll have an open line for Lisbon.«

Levine let his first bodyguard, Gary, step into the house first. The TV was still on, one could tell it because of the ghastly light out of the living room. There was the smell of cooking inside the house – the bait did not even know what will be happening. He´ll be totally in their hands. The TV was so loud that he did not hear that the door had been opened, maybe he was fallen asleep at the couch.

»Check upstairs.« Levine hissed to one of his pro-job-men, and at once the guy sped up the stairs like a shadow. To the other he said: »Check this floor.« he also went away.

Meanwhile the others approached the corner of the entrance hall and were up to look in the living room. No, the man they wanted to kill did not sleep. He sat at the couch and watched an animal movie, his feet under a warm blanket, and a cup of tea next to him, on the table. And… one moment, this was NOT Mister Peter Thompson.

»Oh, hi, nice to meet you.« the man on the couch said at this moment. »You want a cup of tea? I can prepare you one.«

Levine barked: »You? What is this game? I know you, but who the _F…_ are you? Where the hell is that Thompson-crap? What do _you_ do here?«

»Watch TV, drink tea, have a rest.« Patrick smiled. »Had some food, earlier…«

The professional came downstairs again and said: »No one upstairs, I looked at every possible hiding place, even stabbed all beds with my long one, in case someone hides in the mattress. No one on the roof floor either.«

Jane whispered: »Oh, poor mattress, but good thought, really. I would hide inside a hollowed out mattress. Good place, only a pro might think of that. Um, by the way, you two, are you hired mercenaries or do you work for him the whole time?«

None of the professionals answered, but they all started to smile in a very unpleasant way. Levine carried on: »No, it is not your time to ask questions, Mister Road Runner. Whoever you are, private detective, suicide, or a real lunatic… this was it. You tried to make a fool out of me and I do not like it if someone kicks my ass. I offered you an hour in my playroom number ten once, and you could have survived that – but this was only because you pissed me off the first time. This was your second fault, and I promise, that will never happen again. But first of all we´re gonna have loads of fun with you.«

»I reject, thank you.« Jane answered. »I´d prefer you to shoot or stab me right now, if you have to… If you have to kill me, to prove that you are still the big, threatening boss.« he smiled. »Short and fast, in the middle of the forehead, or some smooth cut through the throat – bleeds like mad but is highly effective.«

Levine hissed and addressed all the world around him in disbelief: »I can´t believe it. This one there is surrounded by seven guys with guns and so on and still joking, this is…« for a moment he seemed to be really helpless, then his voice returned to normal: »And he has the guts to try to tell me, how I should kill him? Pah, no, Mister whoever-you-are Road Runner, your death will be as easy as that one of a mouse that's caught in a live-trap that someone forgot on a hidden place. You´ll wish to be dead long before death comes, and it will be a relief to you.«

Patrick informed him, mocking: »Great words for a man like you – do you always have to pretend to be the big guy in front of your buddies, or do you only conceal your much too little self-confidence with it? People don´t love you, right? So they have to fear you, so that you get at least a little bit attention.«

Levine was furious: »I promise, I´ll be the _first_ one and the _last_ one that´s gonna have you and you´ll know what pain is, really. The louder you cry, the more I will do to hurt you.« he growled.

»Oh, I don´t think that you can teach me what real pain is, little ferret.«

»Down with him to the cellar, Gary you wait in front of the door.« Levine yelled.

The two professional mercenaries aimed their guns on Patrick; he raised his arms and went forward. Levine said: »Cautious. If you kill him before I had him, you´ll be next.«

They opened the cellar door, turned on the light and made Patrick go down first, so that he had all his enemies behind him and could not look at them. »One, two, three, four, five, six…« the CBI-Consultant counted. But it was not the stairs nor steps he was counting, he was listening how many persons were coming after him. They shut the cellar door and one of them laughed. And then everything seemed to happen within one splint of a second.

The door to the heating room flew open from the inside, Lisbon grabbed Janes left wrist and pulled him inside, out of the line of fire, the same movement she let go of the first gas grenade, that she had already released, it exploded into a wall of smoke immediately – and then the lights went out in the cellar. The mercenaries were firing at the heating room door like mad although they could not see a thing.

Levine roared: »Stop it, you fools, you´ll hurt me! Try to find a window!« But there was no chance, darkness was everywhere. They noticed the window that moment, when then a second gas grenade dropped in the cellar through a small slit of light, the rest of the window had been nearly completely blocked from the outside with pieces of cloth and earth. There was no chance to get out that absolute darkness, and the gas started to work.

Gary the bodyguard tried to do something as soon as he heard the shots, but he did not get far; Rigsby who had been hiding right under the couch that Jane sat, pointed his gun at him faster than Gary could react. Wayne had the bodyguard handcuffed in a second, a time enough to block the cellar door where one of the others tried to get out by crashing his body against it. Half a minute later everything was over.

They knew that the sleeping gas was not really dangerous, just a strong anesthetic, so they let the door shut until every voice downstairs was quiet. Then they opened up; the front and the back door too, and let the gas out, while Cho opened the window at the other side of the building to accelerate the gas flow by wind power.

When Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt went down to the cellar, Jane came upstairs and let them pass by, ere he went up to the ground floor and disappeared round the corner.

Lisbon was already hand-cuffing Levine. »Take the others, please.« she commanded. »Lets tie them at the main water pipe, that´s strong enough to hold all of them, if needed. But I think that they´ll sleep until our colleagues are here.« She sighed. »Everything ok outside, Cho? Van Pelt?«

»Yes.« Grace answered. »There were no more associates outside, they´re all in here. I think we got them.«

Lisbon smiled: »It´s over…« she stretched herself. »God, I am tired…« she looked at the faces of her team-members. »All of us are tired, I see… It has been a very long day indeed. Go upstairs, and try to have a rest. I´ll guard the guys here.«

Cho said: »No way, boss. We´ll stay all.« He leaned himself at the wall next to the heating-room door.

Rigsby and Van Pelt nodded both, and sat down at the stairs.

Suddenly a great amount of couch-cushions toppled down the stairs, closely followed by Jane who was carrying an armful of blankets. »At least we can have a little comfort, can we?« he said. »I´ll get us some tea, if you like.«

»I´ll help you.« Lisbon offered and hurried upstairs.

The others smiled and started to arrange the cushions and blankets, so that everyone had a fine place to sit. Soon Lisbon came back carrying a tablet with a teapot and cups, in addition to that some cookies. Patrick brought another two cushions and they sat down. They spoke no word, but it was not necessary. It was quiet and slowly they all felt that the day had been really long and exhausting. After a while Rigsby noticed that Lisbon, who sat next to him, was sleeping and he covered her with another blanket.

It was eight a.m. and some minutes, when finally the sirens of the police cars wailed into the street and came nearer and nearer. They stopped in front of the house, and at first everyone was in highest alert, weapons ready.

Lisbon went out of the front door first and bade Agent Price, who was the lead-officer of that siege into the house. His own team followed him of course and they sat down in the living room for a few minutes to explain it all. Price did understand very well and was thankful and happy, that Lisbon´s team had helped him that much. He fully understood that they had to keep their secret, but nevertheless they called Donnaly in the Mojave Desert and told him that he could come back home.

Price took the case now, the investigation against Levine had been his since the first accusations; so he also cared for the prisoners to get into detention. Levine and his friends were also in charge for the murder of Wilkins the postman, and for the murder of Thorpe, the kidnapper. Now Price had a good reason to put them into jail and to court – and if everything would go as it seemed now, they would have Thompson's statement and the report of the Security guard that had spied in the CBI. One after another they were brought upstairs, and thanks to a smelling salts a doctor had given them, they were awake and could walk by themselves.

The last one was Lazar Levine and he tried to hold his head down, as if he was terribly ashamed of himself, and had to be pushed more than he would walk alone.

Jane did not want to him to leave without saying him goodbye, and bade the two policemen that were dragging Levine in-between them, to stop. Levine slowly rose his head.

Patrick smiled, and said: »_Meep, meep_.«

Levine stared at him for the split of a second, as if lightning had stricken him, then he freaked out and yelled curse after curse, so fast, that one could hardly understand. Now the police officers had much to do to keep him at his place; Levine jumped, kicked, hissed, and cried. Jane waved at him for farewell and turned around.

Lisbon stood next to him and asked: »_Meep, meep_? What was that?«

Van Pelt, who had also overheard the last conversation, started to laugh and could hardly stop. »_Meep, meep_, I understand…« she stuttered between her laughs. »The Roadrunner and the Coyote.«

Lisbon was still bewildered, but accepted the amusement of her younger teammate.

Jane gave two women one of his "one-million-dollar-smiles" then he slowly started to walk to his car.


End file.
